


For All the Falling Stars

by Purplepoctopus



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 19:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 60,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2632919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplepoctopus/pseuds/Purplepoctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the attempted murder of her mother, Princess Lucina of Ylisse has to deal with the aftermath. Validar is gaining power quickly, and there isn't much time before Grima rises and the past diverts to the future. Only Lucina can save it, but that doesn't mean that she has to do it alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was late when Lucina returned to her tent. The stars were twinkling bright in the night sky—a beacon of hope through the darkness that was plaguing Ylisse. She had been in this time for several years now.

 

She had been trying to correct the past to bring forth a brighter future for her and her friends, the second generation of Ylisse’s Shepherds, but she still felt odd and out of place. Sure the past was more peaceful than her own time, though not by much, but there was something more _sinister_ about being there.

 

            Before coming to the past, the only thing that Lucina had killed were the Risen, and to be fair you really couldn’t kill something that was already dead. But now she had to take human lives. Lucina knew that it was one of the costs of war, but the first time she had killed a man, it struck her to her core. She had been shaking and couldn’t stop feeling the way that the assassin’s blood had landed on her skin, the way that his face looked right as she plunged Falchion into his flesh. Her father had raised her as a warrior, but she didn’t get much sleep for weeks afterward.

 

            After a while, killing had become easy. After all, it was kill or be killed. But the people she had to slay were always _other—_ whether they were Plegian or Raiders or just general dastards trying to kill her family…

 

            That was another thing that was so glaringly _strange_ about the past. Her parents were alive. They were alive and they had welcomed her and her brother into their embrace. It was so amazing, being able to fight alongside them when everyone was alive and tangible and warm. But Lucina had quickly learned that she didn’t deserve the warm welcome.

 

            Lucina entered her tent, forgoing lighting candles just to sit in the dark. She had just returned from a field only a short walk from the camp, grass and mud still caking the treads of her boots. Normally she found her tent a nice escape, full of her books and trinkets and the various fashions she had picked up during their travels when she hadn’t been fighting, but tonight it felt cold and lonely and _wrong._

 

But now she was away from the others, away from her parents and her brother and away from _him._ She pushed her bangs off of her forehead and finally let out a body shaking, gut wrenching sob.

 

            Lucina nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a flame rise from a candle, seemingly hovering in mid air. Tears were still glazing her eyes, clouding her vision and running down her face. However, when she stepped closer to inspect, she observed that the candle wasn’t floating, it was being held by a familiar face, or rather a familiar mask.

 

            “Gerome?” Lucina called, watching the candlelight dance on his turquoise hair. He gave her as much of a smile as he could muster, which wasn’t much, but instead of coming to embrace him, Lucina backed away. “What are you doing in my quarters?”

 

            “You didn’t come back after supper.” Gerome said with a small shrug, still sitting on the edge of her bed with the candle in his hand. Lucina choked back another sob, but it made her whole body ache.

 

She couldn’t let Gerome see her like this—stoic Gerome who never seemed to let anything faze him. Even after his mother fell on the battlefield, all he cared about was taking care of her wyvern. She had known Gerome all her life, even used him as an example for how to keep calm and collected. After all, she was a leader: the future Exalt of Ylisse.

 

            “Yes… I suppose I didn’t.” Lucina mumbled as she ran her fingers over the sheath that housed Falchion, now a reminder of what she had almost done. “I was on a walk.” Now she was lying through her teeth, but she hoped that even though it was unlikely, Gerome would believe her. But he knew her so well, probably just as well as Morgan did, though Gerome wouldn’t hesitate to call her out on it.

 

            “It must have been a very poor walk if you’re returning in tears.” He scoffed, placing the candlestick down on the table beside the bed. Lucina instinctively looked down at the ground, trying not to meet his eyes. “Why don’t you take off your armor? Sit down? You needn’t lie to or hide things from me.”

 

            “I am the future Exalt. I don’t have to tell you anything.” Lucina swallowed hard and dug her fingernails into her palm. The whole night had made her want to throw up from the anxiety building up in her stomach, and now Gerome confronting her was only escalating the feeling.

 

            “You’re right.” Gerome said as he stood up, his armor clanking together when his feet hit the ground. The presence of the metal coverings let Lucina know that he wasn’t there to stay—that he would end up slinking back to his tent soon. Lucina wondered how long Gerome had been waiting for her, but there was no point in asking, he’d just get defensive. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

 

            “I’m glad we’ve finally agreed on something.” Lucina said as she wiped a fat tear off of her cheek. Her face was hot and damp from tears and sweat and sadness—guilt over what she had done. Or rather, what she didn’t do, but was going to do. She undid her belt and let it fall to the floor, Falchion with it, then began undoing the fastenings for her greaves, but was quickly stopped by a hand, calloused and warm.

 

            “Milady.” Gerome said, taking the straps out of her hands. She scowled and tried to swat him away, but the smirk on his face meant that no matter what she did he wouldn’t relent.

 

            “Uncle Frederick, you’re looking quite like Gerome this evening.” Lucina snapped, but the greaves, followed by her breastplate, hit the floor. She felt extremely naked now, even though she was fully clothed, though many times cooler. “I don’t believe you’ve ever called me that.”

 

            “I thought it might cheer you up.” Gerome shrugged and stood up, now towering quite a bit over Lucina. “Since you will not confide in me about why you are upset.”

 

            “I don’t want to discuss it, Gerome.” She turned away from him and buried her head into her hands. She didn’t want to admit that she had tried to kill her own mother—nor that her mother had accepted it, had allowed her to spill her blood.

 

            Perhaps Robin had known Lucina wouldn’t have the guts to do it, or maybe she had come to terms with sacrificing herself for the greater good. Either way, the guilt and turmoil inside of Lucina’s stomach was becoming too much to bear.

 

            “Then don’t talk.” Gerome placed a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she leaned into his touch, needing the feeling of something familiar. She and Gerome had always had _something_.

 

From the time they were old enough to understand the concept of marriage, Lucina would chase him around and ask him for his hand. It was just playing around, after all they were just children, but as they got older the playing around had turned into genuine affection. No matter how unconventional.

 

            “I tried to kill my mother.” Lucina blurted, then began sobbing all over again. Gerome raised an eyebrow in surprise, but his surprise quickly faded into terror. His hand was on Lucina and she was inconsolably sobbing and he had no idea how to fix the situation.

 

He didn’t even know how to respond. How _can_ you respond when your friend tells you that she nearly committed matricide. “She’s going to kill my father. Soon by the way this time is running its course. And she was going to allow me to do it. She surrendered to my blade. But I couldn’t. Gerome, I couldn’t kill her.”

 

            Gerome grunted as Lucina turned around to grab him, her tear-stained face pressing into the metal of his breastplate. His motions were awkward as he placed one hand on her waist, the other on the back of her head to smooth her hair down. They had embraced before, in a friendly manner, but this was different. This wasn’t flirtatious or even friendly. This was Lucina completely falling apart in his arms.

 

            “I’m terrible… Gerome…”

 

            “Lucina.” Her name was curt and sharp on his tongue, an order rather than a fondness. “You’re an Exalt. Get it together.” His tone was harsh, so sharp that she stopped crying at least for a second, and looked up at him.

 

There were a million and one thoughts running through her head, but the first thing she thought to do was slap him across the face. His mask flew to the ground with a clang, revealing his concerned expression and a bright red handprint on his cream-colored skin.

 

            “You are my _subordinate_ , Gerome.” Lucina hissed, feeling anger boil inside of her like venom coursing through her veins. Maybe she too had the blood of the Fell Dragon inside of her, she thought, but she was quickly snapped out of it. “Gods… Gerome I’m…”

 

            “You don’t need to apologize.” He grunted, rubbing the sore spot on his face. The candlelight was scarce and he couldn’t approximate where his mask had fallen, but at the moment there were more pressing matters that needed to be dealt with. “You did what you thought was right. What you thought would protect Ylisse.”

 

            “I couldn’t do it. She was going to let me—she forgave me. And I still couldn’t do it. What kind of Exalt am I?” Lucina dropped her hand to grab his, a small gesture to try to ground herself before she lost her head. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, which confused her. No gloves, but he was still wearing armor. Maybe she had just caught him off guard. Maybe he wanted to stay.

 

            “An Exalt that cares for her family.” Gerome lifted her hand up to his lips and pressed a light kiss on it, sweet and soft on her skin.

 

“Your mother is a master tactician. She will sit down with her maps and her books and she will have a plan. One that doesn’t end the way our future foretells.” He grabbed her other hand and gave them both a small squeeze, trying to make her understand.

 

            It was strange to see Gerome with such optimism. He had opposed their journey into the past from the beginning, and hadn’t even wanted to join the Shepherds for fear of corrupting the past.

 

“She must hate me. My father must hate me. Morgan—Gods, Morgan. He loves Mother more than…”

 

            “Lucina. Everything will be fine. You’re their daughter; I don’t believe they could hate you if they tried. Now, it’s getting late. We have a big day tomorrow… You should get some rest.” Lucina’s expression was blank, but she nodded slowly. “Good night.”

 

            Gerome turned to leave, but Lucina grabbed his arm and prevented him from leaving, which made him turn back to face her. “Is Minerva taken care of for the night?”

 

            “Hm? Of course I have taken care of her, but I don’t understand why that’s—“

 

            “Gerome, stay with me?” He couldn’t tell if she was asking or commanding, but either way he wasn’t going to protest. Despite his uncaring and sharp exterior, deep down Gerome had a deep love for Lucina—one that he didn’t quite understand but didn’t care to fight.

 

            “Anything for you, Lucina.” She forced a small smile through her tears and gave one last sniffle, though she hadn’t let go of his arm. “Though I do believe I’ll need you to release my arm.” His eyes darted down to her hand, then back up, and she nodded slowly while letting go.

 

            “Of course.” Lucina bit her lip and looked over at Gerome, who was slipping out of his dark black armor. Again, she placed a hand on him, which caused Gerome to look at her funny again. “Let me help.”

 

            “Luce…” She cringed at his nickname for her, but only because she didn’t believe she deserved the affection at the moment. However, she didn’t let him protest and went to working to undo the clasps that were harder for him to reach.

 

            “I’m keeping you from your own bed. The least I can do is help you.” Gerome grunted in response, then slunk off in a corner to strip to his smallclothes. Lucina ran a hand through her hair, catching her fingers on her tiara so as she could place it in its box, right next to the pair of broken halves of the mask that Gerome had given her.

 

She paused for a second, then ran her fingers over the smooth navy material. Lucina had laughed when he had given her the mask, what seemed like eons ago, but it had come in handy during her masquerade as Marth, the Hero-King.

 

            There were very few times that Gerome was wrong when it came to her. He was her oldest friend and they knew each other so well… like two halves of the same whole. Lucina swallowed and got to work undressing, though she wasn’t taking much care into being modest.

 

She and Gerome hadn’t even kissed yet, though they had been close, and if anyone found them together like this it would be another scandal in the camp. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. She just knew she couldn’t be alone for the night.

 

            When Lucina turned around, she saw Gerome fashioning a bed on the floor using his cape and a few throw pillows, which prompted her to quirk an eyebrow upwards. “Gerome? What in Naga’s name are you doing?”

 

            “You insisted that I stay?” Gerome replied, his face twisted in confusion. He never took Lucina for being fickle or forgetful, she _had_ asked him to stay… though he was starting to wonder if he had been imagining her invitation.

 

            “Yes, but not on the floor.” Lucina blushed, the pink in her cheeks illuminated by the candlelight. “I mean… There’s enough room if…. Unless you find it improper.” She was patting the bed beside her, which caused Gerome to swallow hard. Of course he would love to be close to Lucina, but it was… she was…

 

            “Lucina.”

 

            “I insist.” She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, staring Gerome down. His face was so much softer, warmer without the mask on and seeing him stripped to his smallclothes was stirring something inside of her. He was quite handsome—strong from wielding his axe for so long, and Lucina couldn’t help but think about was how it would feel to have his arms around her.

 

            Gerome didn’t feel like fighting her, and her bed was going to be more comfortable than the floor. He shrugged and pushed his hair back before walking over to her and sitting next to her on the bed.

 

The candlelight was dancing on her deep blue hair and causing deep shadows on her face. Her beauty looked even more severe in the lighting, very regal and lovely. He only realized that he was staring when she turned her head and smiled at him, but instead of scolding him she reached out to cup his face in her hand.

 

            Gerome was surprised by her touch, how soft her hands were despite years of wielding Falchion in battle, but he didn’t pull away. “Lucina…” he growled, his voice a low hum in his throat.

 

They shouldn’t be doing this, they both knew that; but after years of fighting side by side and having the relationship that they did, their friends knew it was only a matter of time before they got married. Expediting the process didn’t seem _so_ bad.

 

            He hooked an arm around her waist, placing his hand on the small of her bare back. His touch sent a shudder up Lucina’s spine, and for a moment she wondered if that was what being struck by a Thunder tome was like.

 

Being a child born during a great war, Lucina had never received much physical affection. She knew that her parents loved her until the day that they died, but being raised by servants wasn’t the same. The few hugs she had gotten either came from Cynthia or Morgan, but this… this was different. Gerome’s touch wasn’t familial, not at all.

 

            Lucina dropped her hand from his face and looked deep into his honey-colored eyes. She knew she was being stupid, and that she was probably drunk on her sadness and guilt, but she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his.

 

Gerome was taken aback, using a few seconds to try to realize what was happening before he kissed back. Lucina threw her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss. Her body pressed closer to his, so much so that he could feel the beating of her heart against his bare chest.

 

            This was the first time for both of them, as the war had been so brutal and harsh that they never had a chance to run off and kiss people at festivals, though Inigo always seemed to find the time. “Lucina…” Gerome mumbled in between kisses, but she was too focused to notice, until he pulled away. “Lucina.”

 

            “Gerome?” Lucina dropped her hands to his lap, grasping his hands in her own. Deep down she knew that they were probably going too far, and he was going to remind her of that. After all, they were young and unmarried yet unclothed and in bed with each other. “What’s wrong?”

 

            “Nothing…” Gerome paused and looked away, though Lucina swore she could see him smiling. “Lucina. There is something that I need to say.”

 

            “As your Exalt I demand that you do.” Lucina was teasing, but her tone sounded sharper than she had anticipated.

 

            “In this time you aren’t the Exalt quite yet.” Gerome teased, but he looked back to her quickly and sighed. His face was turning pink at the cheeks, but Lucina was still quite confused. “Lucina, what I want to say is that… I love you… And I have loved you for a long time.”

 

            “Gerome…” Lucina said, her face turning bright red in the candlelight. “I… I have felt the same. For a while now.” She looked down, but Gerome slipped his index finger under her chin, tilting it up so that he could kiss her once again. Gerome’s touch made her feel light and warm—made her skin tingle.

 

The thoughts that were racing through her head were becoming increasingly dirty, so much so that if Maribelle could hear them she would end up dragging Lucina out of her tent by an ear to lecture her about being a proper lady.

 

            She put her hand on Gerome’s chest, feeling the scars that mottled his skin from the battles they had fought. She trailed her fingers down until she stopped at his side, where there was a large and mangled scar that rested just under her fingertips.

 

“I remember this… I thought you were going to die.” Gerome swallowed and looked away, not saying anything. “I couldn’t cover you fast enough. And when that Risen sunk its claws into you… there was so much blood.”

 

            “Lucina…”

 

            “And Minerva was flying around in a panic. I didn’t know what to do. And…” She held back a sniffle, though she was angry with herself for being so emotional. “There was only so much that Brady could do… I was so frightened… I thought that you were going to die.”

 

            “You needn’t worry about me.” Gerome snapped, but he held her close and smoothed her hair down. “But the time you took that arrow. That was frightening.”

 

Lucina’s hand instinctively went to her shoulder to cover the scar. She remembered that battle, remembered Brady remarking that if it had been just an inch or two lower it would have pierced her heart. Though that was pretty much the only thing she remembered. She spent most of the time under sleeping spells to keep the pain from killing her first.

 

            Lucina shifted against him, now straddling his lap to get more comfortable. However, Gerome’s face burned scarlet and she felt _something_ underneath her. “Luce…. We should get some rest.” Gerome said to try to cover himself, but Lucina had some sort of clue as to what was going on. Her face became a bright pink with embarrassment, but she was also quite curious.

 

            “I think we could postpone that for a bit longer.” She said with a shrug. However, she was wrapped up in the intoxication of being so close to Gerome, to feeling his body react to her touch, that she couldn’t shake the thoughts in her head.

 

            “Let me have you, Gerome.” She slunk her bottom half closer to his body then delicately began to unravel the silky pink fabric that had been wrapped around her breasts to conceal them from his gaze. Now she had no need for such niceties.

 

            Gerome opened his mouth to respond, but Lucina cut him off with another kiss. She had never lain with anyone before, but after all of the stories that Inigo had brought back from his long nights in taverns she was curious and hormone-struck and in love.

 

His hands moved to her back and pulled her body tightly to his, causing her breasts to press up against his muscular chest. He was absorbed in the kiss and the high it was giving him, the closeness and warmth that Lucina brought to him, but he pulled back after a long embrace.

 

            “Lucina, are you certain about this?”

 

            “We could die tomorrow, Gerome.” Lucina pushed a lock of his hair off of his face and gave him a small smile, though her hands were shaking. “Let us live tonight. Let me have all of you.” She paused and took a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm. “But if you aren’t—“

 

            Lucina was cut off by Gerome’s lips on her own, his hands pulling her close to his body. She could feel his cock growing beneath her, only two layers of fabric keeping him from her. They were both quite nervous, as they only knew the general gist of the act (plus some supplemental information that was relayed by Inigo while everyone was training).

 

            Gerome lightly tapped Lucina, motioning for her to lie on her back on the bed. He let her down gently, as he was horribly nervous about hurting her. He pressed a few kisses to her lips, then trailed them down her jaw and neck.

 

The sensation was unfamiliar and exciting to Lucina, making her head feel light and lovely from his touch. He slid one hand up her waist to her breast and began massaging it lightly, hoping that he was doing the right thing.

 

            Lucina let out a small gasp, but she tried her best to keep quiet. After all there were tents by her that held people that wouldn’t be too happy to hear the happy sounds of two horny teenagers. “Can you do… more of that?” she asked, her voice shaking.

 

Gerome nodded and moved his fingers towards her nipples, exploring her body like the terrain of a battlefield; all the hills and valleys and sweet spots. He pressed a light kiss to the nipple of the breast that was not being toyed with, then took it into his mouth as he played with the other.

 

            “Gods…” Lucina whispered, which caused Gerome to come up and cock his head to the side.

 

            “Was I hurting you?” Gerome asked. His face was rife with concern and Lucina couldn’t help but laugh.

 

            “Quite the opposite. Please continue.” Lucina gave him a small smile, and Gerome nodded in response. He replaced his mouth on her breast and began to suck and nip at her nipple, causing her to give small, kitten-like moans. “Your Exalt commands it.”

 

            “ _Future_ Exalt in this time, _Princess_.” Gerome said, making Lucina roll her eyes. His breath was hot on her skin, hovering just over her stomach. Her breathing became shallow and careful from the anticipation, every ghosting motion of his fingers on her skin causing her breath to hitch in her throat. Gerome pressed several light kisses down her abdomen, trailing below her navel until he hit the top of her silky panties.

 

            “Gerome?” Lucina asked, her voice going up nearly seven octaves. She was already gripping the sheets even though they had barely done anything yet, which made Gerome’s mouth crack into a wily smile.

 

            “Are you still all right?” He asked without moving his head from its position just over her crotch. Lucina nodded frantically, and Gerome continued, hooking his fingers around the fabric and sliding it down her legs. Lucina lifted her hips to aid in the removal of the garment, now exposing her entirely.

 

He took a deep breath in and paused briefly. Inigo’s voice was vaguely going through his head, as much as Gerome wanted to pretend that he ignored the blonde. Unfortunately he was their resident (and self appointed) sex god, though that was a stretch to say, and his advice was vital to this excursion.

 

            Gerome dipped his head down between Lucina’s legs, pressing a kiss to her inner thighs before spreading them apart with a gentle force. Lucina helped expedite the process, though she was still in the position with her sweating palms gripping the sheets beneath her. There were a million and one thoughts buzzing through her head and she couldn’t keep track of them, especially when Gerome began tonguing her folds.

 

            At first it was just a strange sensation, the feeling of warmth and wetness between her legs. Gerome was fumbling around, trying to get some reaction, but when his tongue hit her clit, he knew that he had found the right spot. Lucina cried out and slipped both of her hands to the back of his head, letting her fingers tangle in the soft teal of his hair. “There…” She said, choking back another moan so as to keep her volume down.

 

            Gerome lifted his head up for a second to give her a sly wink, then went back down between her legs. He pressed his tongue flat against her clit, then flicked it to a point. The attention was causing her legs to quiver and her toes to curl, which Gerome took as a good sign. Lucina was pressing his head deeper between her legs into her warm center.

 

Her taste was unfamiliar and thick on his tongue, but not unpleasant. The noises she was making and the way she was bucking her hips into his mouth were making his cock grow harder, to the point where it was straining against the fabric of his smallclothes.

 

            Lucina bit her lip as she felt the pressure build up inside of her, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from moaning out loud. She lifted a hand from the back of Gerome’s head and moved it to her mouth. He lifted his head slightly, though Lucina was trying to nudge him back down.

 

“Relax.” He purred, though she couldn’t imagine how she could do that when he had gotten her so worked up. She closed her eyes to take a deep breath, and when she opened them she found Gerome leaning on top of her. He leaned in to give her a kiss, letting her taste her juices from his mouth.

 

            Lucina was quite disappointed that Gerome had finished going down on her, but was surprised to find his hand slipping down between their bodies. She felt a finger swirl against her clit, causing her heart to nearly stop, then swallowed hard as it slipped down to press against her entrance.

 

She knew what was coming next, though she was still quite nervous. She had heard horror stories from some, though others said that there was nothing to worry about. Lucina pressed another kiss to Gerome’s lips, but he broke it quickly.

 

            “I don’t want to hurt you, Lucina.” Gerome began, teasing his finger up and down with every syllable. “I want you to stop me if I do.”

 

            “I trust you.” She replied, and stretched her neck up so that she could reach his lips for another kiss. He pressed one, light and chaste, on her lips, then another, deeper kiss. It was hot and hungry, with Lucina dipping her tongue into his mouth to keep him close.

 

She was so distracted with the movement of their mouths that when he slid a finger inside of her, she gasped loud and hard against his lips. Gerome smirked into the kiss, enjoying the sounds that she was making, and began working the digit inside of her.

 

He went slowly at first, testing the waters with the one finger. She was so slick and wet, though Gerome could feel some tension still inside of her. Her walls were clamping down around his finger, signaling that he needed to calm her down.

 

            “You need to relax.” He commanded, whispering into her ear so that his breath was hot and sensual on her skin. She nodded and went to replace her hand on her mouth, but Gerome gave her another kiss first. As he slid his finger inside of her, he crooked the digit up slightly. He didn’t know exactly what he did, but the noises coming out of Lucina were loud and plenty.

 

            “There. That. Whatever you did, please continue.” Gerome nodded and repeated the gesture, hitting the spot that was making her squirm. He pressed several kisses to her neck, nipping at the skin on the way down.

 

She was biting down on her index knuckle to try to contain the moans coming out of her, from Gerome hitting that one spot. He was moving faster, making her head fill with a lusty fog, then slipped another thick finger inside of her. She cried out again, biting down so hard that she could taste blood, her whole body vibrating with electricity emanating from her center.

 

            Gerome pumped his fingers in and out of her a few more times, trying to extend the pleasure she was feeling without just cutting her off. However she was twisting and turning on the mattress and breathing heavily. He slid his fingers out of her and slipped them into his mouth, licking them clean of her taste. “Your Highness?”

 

            “Is my face supposed to feel like it’s tingling?” Lucina asked as she covered her face with her bite-marked hand. Gerome moved it away, pressing a kiss to the wound, then another to her forehead.

 

            “That is the point, I believe.” He grunted, running a hand through his hair. Lucina stared at him for a few seconds, knowing that she should do something, but she was wracking her brain with things that she _could_ do.

 

            _What would Inigo do…?_ She thought, when suddenly an idea sprung into her head. Lucina crawled over to Gerome and kissed him hard. His hands flew to her ass, grabbing handfuls as she slid his smallclothes off of him. His erection sprang from its confinement, slapping against his stomach audibly.

 

Lucina was quite nervous, swallowing hard as she took his cock into her hand. She gave him a kiss, then another, but didn’t move. “Tell me what you want me to do.” She commanded, and for a second Gerome’s expression went blank.

 

            “What I want…” He placed his hand on top of hers, instructing her on how to stroke his cock the way that he liked it. Of course he had touched himself before, there was seldom a soldier who hadn’t, and he had some idea of what he liked. However the feeling of another’s hand on him was another experience all together, especially since the hand was Lucina’s.

 

            “Like this?” She asked, stroking him a bit by herself. Gerome threw his head back against the headboard and let out a strangled cry, which let Lucina know to keep going. She stroked him a few more times, giving a small twist at the end.

 

Gerome bucked his hips up to fuck her hand, which gave Lucina a small idea. She gently pushed his torso back so that he was reclining in a more comfortable position, then repositioned herself between his legs. She pressed a kiss to his lips, then jaw, nipped on his neck, then kissed down his torso until she reached the head of his cock.

 

            She was visibly nervous, avoiding eye contact with Gerome as she tried to surmount her fears. Lucina placed a light kiss on the head, then took a deep breath before taking him into her mouth.

 

Gerome was quite surprised, but let out a groan from deep in his throat. His hands came to rest on the back of her head, though they weren’t guiding her out of fear of hurting her.

 

She dipped her head down, only taking in a few inches, but every time she bobbed she took a little more. Lucina was worried that her teeth were scraping or hurting him, though the sounds Gerome was making didn’t seem to suggest it at all.

 

            Lucina bobbed her head a few more times, and Gerome began directing her, pressing her head down to take more and more of him into her mouth. But, before he got to carried away, he nudged her off and looked deep into her eyes.

 

“May I have you, Lucina?” he asked, and Lucina nodded as she wiped a drop of drool off of the corner of her mouth. She was slightly embarrassed, but Gerome wasn’t fazed. He crawled out from underneath her and nudged her down with a hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath his fingertips.

 

            Gerome gave Lucina a few light kisses as he lined himself up, her face red as a rose from her nerves. “Inigo always says to go slow at first.” Lucina reminded, and Gerome gave a small snicker.

 

            “I never believed I would be listening to Inigo of all people. But I assume he is correct in this one scenario.” Lucina nodded back at him, and he gave her a small and reassuring smile. “I promise that I will only think of you.”

 

He leaned down to kiss her, and she could feel the tip of his cock press against her. He wasn’t inside of her yet, just against her. It was a foreign feeling, but she was so lost in the kiss that she couldn’t think about it too much. Gerome put one hand down to stabilize himself, then used the other to grab Lucina’s as he slid inside of her.

 

            Lucina opened her eyes, but shut them tight fast. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant; in fact it felt good. It was just _strange_. She felt like she was being stretched apart from the inside, filled with warmth—filled with _him_.

 

Gerome was letting out a few moans into her mouth, and she caught each one with a slight grin. There was a slight friction, a strange feeling in her throat every time he pushed deeper, but it was a good feeling. She entangled her fingers between his, giving them a firm squeeze as a moan escaped her lips

 

            Gerome was trying to keep his pace, though the feeling of finally sinking in to her warm wetness drove him wild. He wanted to fuck her into the mattress and kiss every inch of her skin, but he didn’t want to hurt her. She seemed receptive, however, bucking her hips up to match his thrusts with enthusiasm.

 

            “H…Harder.” She cried, gripping his hand tightly. “I can take it.” Lucina knew he wanted it, and she was willing to give it to him. The anxiety she had about having him inside of her was fading away quickly, to the point where she needed him desperately.

 

Gerome nodded and picked up the pace, slamming into her with enough force to make her cry out. Gerome bit his lower lip as he felt himself drawing close. He wanted to finish off, wanted to fill her with his hot white cum as he held her close, but he knew that the risk of pregnancy was too high.

 

            “I’m close to my release, Lucina.” He groaned, sliding out of her to reveal his slicked-up cock. She let out a deep breath and blinked a few times, unsure of what to do.

 

He began to shift as if he was going to get up and finish himself off somewhere else, but Lucina stopped him with a hand on his thigh. Gerome looked at her with a quirked eyebrow, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond before she took him into her mouth again to resume blowing him.

 

            He threw his head back to let out a long moan, and he gripped her hair to allow him more access, fucking her mouth good and hard. Lucina was trying to keep up, and doing relatively well, but Gerome’s cries were getting louder and more frequent, and she could feel him throbbing and twitching in her mouth.

 

“Lucina, Gods…” He mumbled, cumming hard inside of her. She thought she could take it, but the combination of the sudden increase in liquid, the flavor, and his cock ramming her mouth made her begin to gag. Gerome noticed almost immediately and pulled out of her, struggling to find a handkerchief for her as she began to cough.

 

            Gerome placed a hand on the small of her back, the other under her mouth with the cloth as she coughed up his seed and her own spit. Her eyes were watering and a few tears slid down her cheeks as she tried not to vomit, but he was still holding her close. “You’re all right…” he cooed, though Lucina didn’t quite believe it.

 

            “I’m so sorry.” She said, brushing the tears off of her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Gods, Gerome. I’ve made a fool of myself.”

 

            “I’m the one that is to blame.” He replied, placing the soiled handkerchief on the bedside table so that he could take Lucina into his arms. She was shaking to keep herself from crying more, which made him feel extremely guilty. “I shouldn’t have gone that far.”

 

            “I’m quite embarrassed…” Lucina said as she snuggled closer to him, placing her head on his chest; her deep blue hair spread out across his pale skin.

 

            “No need. It was wonderful, Lucina.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the soft floral scent of her hair. “I love you.”

 

            “I love you too, Gerome.” She lifted her head up to give him one last kiss, then closed her eyes. “Goodnight.”

 

            “Sleep well, Princess.”


	2. Chapter 2

Gerome slipped out of bed early that morning, trying to untangle himself from Lucina’s strong limbs without waking her up. She had her head in the crook of his neck, a hand wrapped around his torso, a leg slipped between his. She was holding onto him like he would vanish into thin air, the one bit of stability in the upside down and crazy world that they lived in.

 

However he would have to break his promise—rise before anyone discovered him in her quarters. If anyone knew what had happened between them last night, his head would certainly be served to the Risen on a platter.

 

            Lucina was a Ylissian pride and joy, their princess and their only glimmer of hope in the dark ages that had descended upon the land. She had her father’s looks and her mother’s determination, paired with fighting skills beyond compare. Gerome was just the masked misanthrope who sulked around the camp and brooded with his mother’s wyvern. It pained him to leave her, but he knew it was what was right.

 

            He took one last look at her, though his jaw nearly dropped to the ground. On Lucina’s back was an intricate design, taking up the whole of the space. Looking back at him were six eyes staring at him from her skin. Gerome blinked a few times, hoping that he had just been seeing things, but there they remained. He had seen the pattern before, but he didn’t believe that it had been on her the night before. He would have remembered.

 

            The sun was just rising over the horizon when Gerome stepped out of Lucina’s tent, the morning dew still thick on the grass. The only other person awake at the hour was Sir Frederick, probably polishing weapons or watching Chrom in his sleep or something comparable. Gerome adjusted the mask on his face, glad to have his security blanket back on, and walked over to the stables.

 

            It was always odd seeing Minerva try to fit in amongst the horses and pegasi and alicorns, especially with two versions of herself kept in the same small space. The whole situation was bizarre and unfamiliar. Growing up Gerome never thought that he would be spending time in his parents’ prime, fighting a war that never should have been his cross to bear. But, here he was in the past with only a few reasons to keep holding on.

 

            “Morning, Minervykins.” Gerome cooed for his wyvern, patting the top of her head as if she were a small dog. “I’ve brought you breakfast.” He carefully unwrapped the butcher’s paper covering the slab of meat, then tossed it her way. She grabbed it in her strong jaws and swallowed it down whole while making several happy noises. “That’s a good girl. I have some business to attend to, but I’ll be back soon.” Gerome gave the wyvern a small kiss on the nose, then headed out of the stables, towards a grouping of tents.


	3. Chapter 3

Lucina awoke to find the bed next to her empty, and for a minute she wondered if the night before had all been a dream. While she enjoyed the part where she slept with Gerome, the part where she tried to kill her beloved mother for the good of the halidom was too much to bear.

 

But when she got up she was met by a dull pain between her legs, annoying but not unpleasant, that solidified the fact that the night before _hadn’t_ been a dream. While she wished that he had stayed with her, she knew that if she was caught with him there would be trouble. Before she could be distracted with that pain, however, a greater and sharper one seared from her back.

 

It was still early when Lucina crawled out from under her covers, fully naked in the sun-drenched tent. She walked by the stand-up mirror in the corner to assess the damage on her body from her escapades the night before, but instead of focusing on the bruises from Gerome’s mouth, she was rather concerned with the sight of a purple mark where the pain was originating from.

 

The princess walked over to her dresser to grab a hand mirror, hoping to use reflection to see what exactly happened. However, she was shocked and frightened by what she found. Her mother had bore the same mark though hers rested on the back of her hand, not on her back. For a moment, Lucina was entranced with the eyes, as if they were calling to her. But she shook her head and put the mirror down.

 

She wasted no time getting dressed and looking presentable, glad that her normal style of clothing covered the purple marks that had been left on her neck as well as the new addition to her skin. Sure, the Plegian weather was sweltering and considerably arid, but in battle it wasn’t smart to run around in smallclothes just to beat the heat.

 

After getting dressed, Lucina walked over to her bed to examine the state of her sheets. There was no blood, but there was no doubt that they were unusable without a good washing. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get them into the camp’s laundry without someone finding out, but she was going to find some way, eventually.

 

The only thing Lucina had in her mind, even moreso than breakfast, was going to see her best friend Severa. Lucina’s life had turned upside down the night before, and even if the camp didn’t know about her escapades with Gerome, they probably knew about the attempt on the queen’s life the night before. She needed the comfort and support of the mercenary before she braved the day.

 

She came up to Severa’s tent with a light tiptoe, trying to keep from making noise to wake the others around her. It wasn’t like she had an especially private tent like Lucina did, and there were plenty of ways the people around could be startled from their sleep. But still, Lucina slunk in and found her sleeping friend wrapped up in her bed.

 

“Severa!” Lucina hissed as she climbed into bed next to the sleeping girl, prodding her in the side to try to rouse her from her slumber. “Wake up.”

 

“Gods Lucina, this better not be about a cockroach in your tent. Again.” Severa complained as she pulled the pillow out from under her to place it on top of her head.

 

“It’s not. And that cockroach was approximately the size of a—“

 

“I’m up.” Severa said as she slid up to a sit and leaned against Lucina’s shoulder, a large pout on her face. “What do you need?”

 

“I needed my friend.” Lucina swallowed hard and began playing with Severa’s hair, long and silky between her fingers.

 

“Yeah. I heard about… Last night. I went to go find you but I guess you ran off… Though I ran into Gerome when I was looking in your tent.” Severa shrugged and yawned, her eyes still cloudy from sleep. Lucina was weaving small braids in her friend’s locks, trying to avoid talking about her actions the night before. “Are you all right?”

 

“I’m fine.” Lucina snapped, her voice shaking.

 

“Did you find Gerome? I don’t know what he wanted but he was very insistent that he was going to wait for you. Did you lose a bet?” Severa closed her eyes for a small second, enjoying the way that Lucina played with her hair.

 

“Something like that…” Lucina mused, putting down the section she was working on to pick up another. “Have you seen my mother? Or my father? Or Morgan?”

 

“Last I heard, the queen was in bed. Apparently being possessed by your freaky dragon father is exhausting.” Severa said with a small sigh. “But I didn’t hear anything about you being disowned. Don’t know anything about Blue or Squirt though.” She shrugged again but didn’t elaborate further.

 

“I should go to see her… However I am worried.” Lucina stopped her braiding, as her hands were beginning to shake from the guilt pooling inside of her stomach. “What if she hates me, Severa?”

 

“You’re her daughter. And to be fair, you had the right idea.” Severa pulled her knees to her chest and locked her arms around her legs. She placed her head against her thighs, curled up like a child.

 

“Then we wouldn’t be stuck with the Hell that is our future.” Lucina opened her mouth to respond, but there was nothing that she could say to fix it. It was true. Her mother was the sole reason for their future falling apart, for the rise of Grima and the death of her friends’ parents.

 

“Severa…” Lucina said, trying to regain enough composure to run her fingers through her friend’s hair again. Severa leaned into her touch, savoring the one bit of familiarity and safety that she would probably feel for a while.

 

“It’ll be fine.”

 

“That’s… Not what I was going to say, but thank you for the reassurance.” Lucina swallowed again and bit her lower lip. For a split second she thought about the feeling of Gerome’s lips on hers, but she knew she couldn’t linger.

 

“Spit it out then, Luce.” Severa was growing impatient, especially since Lucina hadn’t seemed to bother to answer any questions about Gerome, nor did she explain the reason for the haphazardly wrapped bandages around her hand.

 

“I had sexual relations with Gerome. Last night.” Lucina’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Severa didn’t seem to get the memo. She whipped around, slapping Lucina in the face with her hair, and turned to face her friend.

 

“You _what_?” Severa raised an eyebrow and looked Lucina up and down, trying to find any sort of evidence that supported her friend’s words. “If you’re lying to me, I promise I will murder you.” But, Lucina could only shake her head.

 

“My words are the truth.”

 

“Did he take off his mask?” Severa questioned, and Lucina frowned in response.

 

“Not willingly.” The response elicited a snicker from Severa, before she went to play with Lucina’s hair.

 

“What was it like?” Severa parted a section of Lucina’s cobalt hair at the crown of her head and began braiding, intent to hear the whole story. Lucina clasped her hands in her lap and her entire face turned red from embarrassment, but she knew that if she didn’t want to talk about it then Severa would be the last person to indulge with.

 

“I don’t know. It was… very satisfying until the conclusion. That was… awkward.” Lucina cringed at the memory of coughing up Gerome’s seed when she had tried being demure and sexy, and Severa caught the gesture almost right away.

 

“What happened? Did it hurt?” Her fingers were tangled around several strands of hair, paused in her tight French braiding until Lucina said _something_.

 

“No, it didn’t hurt. It felt incredible, to be honest. But the end…” She cringed and her face turned another four shades of red. “I embarrassed myself.” Lucina placed a hand on Severa’s knee and sighed heavily, trying to figure out a way to explain what had happened. “Remember… That story Inigo told about the girl in that tavern in Valm?”

 

“The one with the eleventh toe?” Severa asked, trying to clarify. After all, Inigo had many stories about many taverns in many lands.

 

“No. The goat herder’s daughter.”

 

“The one that choked on his…?”

 

“It wasn’t quite that… eventful,” Lucina said while squirming in her seat, “but it was along those lines, yes.”

 

“Did you hurl?” Severa asked as she returned to work with her braid. Her audacity caught Lucina off guard, but there was nothing she could do at this point besides tell the truth.

 

“No. No… Thank the Gods.” Lucina let out a deep breath and began toying with the hem of her tunic, playing with the fabric between her fingers.

 

“How did he take it?” Severa tugged a few more times to tighten the braid, then leaned over the edge of her bedroll to grab a ribbon from her drawer, so that she could tie the end of the hairstyle off.

 

“He held me. And then he spent the night. And…”

 

“Don’t just leave me hanging with ‘and’!” Severa crossed her arms over her chest, but Lucina leaned up against her with a huff.

 

“He relayed crucial information about his affections for me.” Lucina shrugged, but Severa was still on the edge of her seat.

 

“He better have affections for you if he’s going to have sex with you in your tent. Do you love him, Lucina?”

 

“Very much, Severa.” Lucina sighed and looked out into the distance, thinking about his cocky smile and the painfully stoic attitude that he wore like a mask on top of his mask. “I suppose I have for some time now.”

 

“I don’t care if he’s one of our friends, Luce. If he hurts you he’s going to meet the business end of my sword.”

 

Lucina gave a small and warm smile to her friend as she rose from the bedroll, her hair now streamlined down the back of her head. “I shall keep that in mind. No matter what happens, you will always be my dearest friend.”

 

“And you’ll be mine. Now can I get a few more minutes of sleep before we get invaded by Risen and I’ll have to gut some zombies in my nightclothes?”

 

“As you wish.” Lucina said with a small chuckle. She got up to exit the tent, but hesitated for a moment. She wondered if she should tell Severa about the mark on her back, but instead she left without saying a word.


	4. Chapter 4

Gerome found Inigo sleeping alone, though he probably would brag to the camp at breakfast that he had found some Plegian babe who was pretty bendy and could juggle Levin swords with her toes. While Gerome often thought Inigo was frivolous and ridiculous, after accompanying the blonde to several taverns he had warmed up to the man.

 

After all, if you weren’t friends with the man you were carrying up a flight of stairs because he had one too many glasses of mead then he assumed he was doing it wrong. Gerome had learned a lot about Inigo in those nights at the taverns, about the masks that Inigo chose to wear. They might not be literal, tangible masks like Gerome’s but he could respect them all the same.

 

            Gerome found a throw pillow on the ground and whacked Inigo in the face with it, just hard enough to rouse him from his sleep. The blonde shot straight up in bed and looked around for his sword in a panic, before seeing Gerome standing there with his usual masked and brooding expression.

 

            “What was that for?” Inigo asked as he assessed that the assault on his face was from Gerome and not from a rogue Risen. “I’m shocked and hurt that you would do that to my _face_. My face is a sacred gift from Nag—“

 

            “Peace. I came to you for advice and you’re making me regret that decision in its entirety.” Gerome tossed the pillow at Inigo’s head again, but the blonde caught the cushion and rolled his eyes.

 

            “If you’re choosing me to come to for advice over the others, I can only assume one thing.” Inigo said with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a grin. “We’ve already discovered that you’re a chick magnet. Who’s the lucky lady?”

 

            Gerome blushed and looked away, thankful that his mask was hiding the expression on his face, which was probably a mix of love and embarrassment. “Who said that I was interested in the company of a woman?” Gerome scoffed, and Inigo took the opportunity to sit up and raise an eyebrow in confusion.

 

            “The lucky lad? You know, Gerome, I won’t think ill of you for—“

 

            “Gods, Inigo. If it’ll silence your drivel I suppose I’ll indulge.” Gerome snapped, pacing around the floor with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his cloak. “I had…. Intimate relations… with Lucina last night.”

 

            “Gerome, if you’re going to lie to me, at least make it believable.” Inigo said with a snort, crossing his arms over his chest while looking Gerome up and down. He did notice _something_ different about the wyvern rider, but he couldn’t quite place it. His hair, Inigo decided, did look quite disheveled. And his friend had been gone for several hours…

 

            “I’m not…”

 

            “You slept with Lucina?”

 

            “Yes.”

 

            “ _Our_ Lucina? Like, _Princess Lucina_ of Ylisse Lucina? That Lucina?” Inigo was getting quite loud, so Gerome took it upon himself to cover the blonde’s mouth with his hand.

 

            “Silence! You’ll let the entire camp know with your incessant wailing!” Gerome’s heart was racing and he was instantly regretting confiding in Inigo, but he dropped his hand to free the other boy.

 

            “So you… with Lucina?”

 

            “Do I have to say it again?” Gerome snapped, placing his head in his hands as he took a seat at the foot of Inigo’s bed. “We… I was consoling her and then she propositioned me… and I’ve had… affections for her for quite some time.”

 

            “Could have fooled me. You won’t even express your affections for cake, let alone for _Lucina_.” Inigo ran a hand through his hair and gave a small sigh, wondering how in the Hell he was supposed to have a conversation with Gerome about him laying with Lucina.

 

            “I suppose that is true. But I assure you that my feelings and admirations are truthful.” Gerome paused for a second and looked at the ground, then sighed. “Though I feel quite guilty now. And conflicted. I want to ask her for her hand, but I don’t want her to believe that I am asking out of obligation now that we’ve been intimate.”

 

            “She might run you through with Falchion.” Inigo said with a nod, but he sat up more and tapped his chin idly. “But she may not. There’s only one way to find out.” He shrugged and got out of his bedroll, wandering over to his mirror while Gerome sat and contemplated Inigo’s words.

 

            “If she truly loves you, the timing shouldn’t matter. And if you love her back then it _really_ shouldn’t matter.”

 

Gerome nodded along, but he was only half-hearing the words. The only thing that he could particularly think at the moment was “Oh shit.” Asking for Lucina’s hand would mean that he would have to talk to Chrom, and the idea of that terrified him.

 

Sure, Chrom was the easygoing, friendly and trusting Exalt who had managed to be so loyal that he married the human embodiment of Grima and had _children_ with her, but this was his daughter. And with the camp on edge after the events of the week, Gerome didn’t think that a wedding would be the best of topics for the king.

 

Though, most of the weddings of his friends’ parents had been during wartime, with some even eloping on the battlefield when they thought that those moments would be their last. And with the Fire Emblem in the hands of Validar, there wasn’t much time before the rise of Grima. The present was going in the direction of the horrific future that they hailed from, only much faster.

 

“Then I should discuss this with the Exalt. I’ll return later, Inigo.” Gerome turned to exit the tent in a dramatic fasion, cape fluttering behind him, but he was stopped by the sound of the blonde’s voice.

 

“Wait.”

 

“Hm?” Gerome grunted, looking down at Inigo through masked eyes.

 

“Was it good?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Gerome sighed heavily. Of course Inigo would ask something like that.

 

“Very. Goodbye, Inigo.” And with that Gerome left, taking a deep breath before going over to the Exalt’s tent.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucina exited Severa’s tent with a heavy sigh. Now that she had one thing off of her chest, she had to rectify another. Morgan had stormed away from her last night, refusing to even look at her, though there wasn’t much that she could even say to mollify the situation.

 

Morgan loved their mother, looked up to her and aspired to be her. Lucina remembered him running around the castle as a child and flipping through pages upon pages of the Queen’s books before he could even comprehend them, wanting to be a master tactician just like her.

 

            Lucina had always been more of a daddy’s girl, preferring swordplay and combat to the tactical strategies of the other two. The first time she was allowed to wield Falchion, to test if it had chosen her to carry it, was one of the greatest moments of her life.

 

Chrom had handed her the blade, passed down through the generations all the way from Marth the Hero-King, and let her take a swing at a log. It had split cleanly down the middle, sharp as the talons of Naga herself. Chrom had been so proud of her. He put her on his shoulders and paraded her around the palace, and she giggled all the way.

 

            It wasn’t until Lucina got older that she realized that it had been a test for the possibility of her father’s demise. Morgan never got a chance to test the blade, or perhaps he never wanted to, preferring mother’s tomes over the sword and the close-combat lifestyle. Falchion had been something shared between father and daughter, but it didn’t make her love her mother any less.

 

            When Lucina was little, she would sit in her mother’s lap and trace the mark over her hand, the six eyes of Grima, with curiosity. “Mama?” Lucina would ask, “Why do you have eyes?” And every time her mother would tell a different story.

 

            Lucina stood at the entrance to Morgan’s tent, her hands shaking as she peeled back a corner of the fabric. “Morgan…” She called inside. “Morgan… It’s me.”

 

            “Go away, Lucina.” The boy responded, his voice full of hurt. Lucina could tell that he sounded like he had been crying, and there was no way she could shame him for doing so.

 

            “I came to talk.” She said, her voice quivering with the guilt she held inside of her.

 

            “I said, _go away._ You tried to kill mother!” Lucina sighed heavily and came into the tent uninvited, to see her brother curled up in his bed with his face in a pillow. His eyes were red and puffy—she could tell that he had been crying for a while. It pained Lucina to see him this way, but there was nothing that she could do now that the deed had already been done.

 

            “I know. But it was what was best for the—“

 

            “Don’t give me that, Lucina!” Morgan shouted, tossing his pillow at her head. She expertly dodged it, her braided hair whipping around behind her. “You even brought Falchion. Are you going to kill me too? Maybe _you’re_ the one that Grima should have chosen instead!”

 

            “Morgan, what are you talking about?” Lucina rose an eyebrow as she asked, but as soon as the words flew out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. Morgan had pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal six eyes branded on his chest, staring back at her, cold and unblinking.

 

They were identical to the mark that her mother bore—the mark that she now carried as well. Her mind started to flash back to her meeting with Grima, the one that she had narrowly escaped after being practically torn apart by the Fell Dragon’s great maw.

 

            She thought back to her childhood, watching her parents worry as they waited for her brother’s brand to surface. Lucina had never understood why, as Aunt Lissa’s had never come in, but since the start of the war she knew. They were waiting to see if her brother was claimed by Naga or Grima. How funny it was now that she had been claimed by both.

 

            “Are you going to kill me too, Lucina?” Morgan stood up, letting the fabric spring back over the brand upon his chest. “Go ahead. Grab Falchion. I’ll stay still. Run me through like you were going to do to mother!” He held his arms out in the air, tears streaming down his face.

 

            “Morgan…” She wanted to say something smart. Wanted to inform him that she wouldn’t do something as barbaric as blindly stabbing him. That there were more humane ways to kill, but she knew that anything she said would just make him more and more upset. Instead she unbuckled the belt that held the sheath to her hip and let it hit the floor, disarming her. For a moment, she even thought about showing him her own mark, but decided against it.

 

            “Don’t be a _coward_ , Lucina! I know you want to. Kill me, and then go and finish off mother!” Morgan walked over, still sobbing, trying to pick a fight with her. He placed a hand on the center of her breastplate and pushed her backwards, then repeated the motion. When his actions didn’t gain any response, he began slapping and hitting it until he nearly exhausted himself and fell into Lucina’s arms, letting his tears fall against the body of his older sister.

 

            “I’m going to fix this, Morgan. I promise you.” Lucina peeled her brother off of her body, retrieved her belt, and retreated from the tent quickly, trying to blink back the tears from her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

The royal tent easily stood out from the others in the camp. For one thing, it was a lot larger, a luxury for the Exalt and his Queen, and it happened to carry the brand of House Ylisse on the heavy canvas. Gerome thought it was quite conspicuous, but no one else at the camp seemed perturbed by it.

 

            He stood by the entrance, twisting his mother’s ring underneath the leather of his gloves, letting the metal press and bite against his skin to try to give him some confidence for what he was about to do. “Milord.” Gerome said, still playing with the jewelry. “I have a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

 

            Chrom appeared at the door to the tent rather quickly, sweat slicking his hair to his forehead. He looked like he had been worrying for quite a while, but Gerome wasn’t planning on commenting on it. “Gerome? What do you wish to speak about?”

 

            Gerome sighed heavily and removed his mask but before he could open his mouth, Chrom immediately pull the canvas aside. “I see. Come in.” Gerome wasn’t sure exactly what Chrom saw, but he wasn’t going to argue with the Exalt. “Please do not mind the mess. Robin hasn’t been feeling well, and I’ve been taking care of her.”

 

Gerome looked over to see the Queen curled up in bed, appearing to be sleeping. He nodded and turned back to the blue-haired king. He could see many features on the man’s face that Lucina also carried, but they weren’t carbon copies. Still, they had the same expression on their faces when they were concerned, the same furrowed brow.

 

“What matter would you wish to discuss?” Chrom asked when Gerome didn’t say anything, which snapped the teal-haired man out of his trance.

 

“Right. Milord. I… I have something to ask.” Gerome swallowed hard, and he could tell that Chrom wasn’t appreciative of the stalling. He was keeping the Exalt away from his ailing wife, and all he was doing was stuttering and rambling. “You are aware of Lucina…”

 

“I believe so. She is my daughter.” Chrom gave a small chuckle, and all Gerome wanted to do was put his mask back on to hide the emotions that were starting to leak out of him. “What about Lucina?”

 

“I… I have affections for your daughter, milord.” His hands were shaking and there was a huge pit forming in his stomach. “I have for some time.”

 

“I see…” Chrom said with a frown, which made Gerome’s palms begin to sweat. “Does Lucina return these affections?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Gerome replied. He was holding his mask in his lap, his security blanket and shield from the outside world, and running his fingers over the smooth black of the material. He thought about the mask that he had given Lucina for their trip into the past, the shield that she used to masquerade as Marth—to hide the mark of the Exalt in her iris. “Which is why I wanted to ask you for her hand.”

 

Chrom began to laugh, and placed his head in his palm. Gerome lifted an eyebrow, wondering if something was wrong or if he was getting denied, but the cobalt-haired King looked up and gave Gerome a smile. “If she knew that you were asking me for permission, she would run you through with her sword.”

 

“I am quite aware, but I felt it proper.”

 

“You have my blessing, but we’ll keep this between you and I. For both of our sakes.” Chrom extended his hand to clasp Gerome’s, which he reluctantly took. Gerome wondered for a moment if he was moving things along too quickly, but the war was waging quicker than anyone had expected.

 

“Thank you, milord.” As quickly as he had taken it off, Gerome slipped his mask back on and exited the tent without so much as another word. It was now a decent hour for the Shepherds that weren’t Sir Frederick, and the camp was coming to life before his eyes.

 

There would be gossip and rumors before breakfast was even served, which made Gerome nervous. There was no doubt that Lucina’s motives would be questioned, and he wondered if he should suggest that she sit out of the day’s march. However, he knew that if he brought it up he would be met with a swift kick to the shin and a glare. No one could stop Princess Lucina, especially when she got something in her head.

 

He turned around when he saw a flash of cobalt out of the corner of his eye, only to see Lucina dash out of Morgan’s tent. She looked rather upset, so Gerome came following after her with a frown. “Lucina.” He called, but she didn’t stop moving, Falchion bobbing and swinging at her side. “Lucina!”

 

            The princess turned around with tear-filled eyes, but Gerome didn’t come any closer. There were several feet of distance between the two, but he could tell just by her posture that something was wrong.

 

Lucina had a delicate gait, every step placed strategically and deliberately. It was a move she learned from her father, a move for a soldier. When she hid her identity as Marth, her stride took on a swagger, a confidence that he had never seen in Lucina. He figured it was the mask. After all, without his he didn’t even believe that he would still be alive.

 

But this Lucina, she was running for the sake of running. Her back was slumped and her head down, accepting defeat. It was unlike her, unlike anything he had ever seen from her before. “Lucina…”

 

“Gerome.” She finally responded, her voice curt and flat, cutting through him like the blade of a sword. “Please go.”

 

“If you believe that I am going to leave you, you are sorely mistaken.”

 

“You’ve seen enough.” She snapped, and her tone took him aback.

 

“I see a lot.” Gerome swallowed, taking a step towards her. She didn’t move forward, but she didn’t move back either. Lucina stood her ground and clenched her fists together to try to relieve the tension. She couldn’t tell anyone about her brother’s secret. Not even the man that she loved more than lemon cakes or bear stew.

 

“Please go.”

 

“I’m not leaving you alone in the woods with the Risen.”

 

“I can fight for myself, Gerome.” Lucina bit her lip and turned away, though she could feel the slight puffiness from the kisses she had received the night before. It pained her to pull away from him, but the burden she carried inside of her was too great.

 

“I am well aware. You do very well for yourself.” He said while shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wanted so desperately to hold her, to kiss her tears away, but he could tell when Lucina needed space.

 

“I saw you coming from my father’s tent.” She said while looking towards the trees, where a bright red bird was sitting on a branch. “What were you doing there?” Lucina looked at him with sad blue eyes, her stare piercing to the center of his soul.

 

“We were discussing something.” Gerome grunted, looking away. It was easier to talk to her with his mask on, hiding the emotions so clearly painted upon his face.

 

“If this is about my place on the battlefield today, I’ll have you know that I have no plans to remain behind.”

 

“Lucina.” Gerome said, trying to cut off her incessant rambling.

 

“The fact that you would even suggest that, to my _father_ of all people!”

 

“Lucina.” He said again, this time she whipped her head around and shot him a dirty glare.

 

“ _What?_ ” She snapped, only to find Gerome in front of her, down on one knee. The metal of his poleyns dug into the mud beneath them, causing him to sink a little and shake, but he held his pose. “Oh Gerome, no…”

 

Those weren’t the words he was hoping to hear. Lucina’s hands were covering her mouth, but Gerome couldn’t decipher the expression on her face. Once again he was glad that there was a mask over his face, as it was hiding the hurt expression in his eyes.

 

“Is this because of last night?” She asked, dropping her hand down to kneel in front of him. He turned his head to the side and scoffed audibly, clutching his mother’s ring in his fist.

 

“I’m not asking for your hand because we happened to lie together, _Princess_.” His words bit through her chest like cold Feroxi ice, causing her to cringe. Lucina frowned and reached out to cup his face in her hand, but before she could stop herself she was removing his mask, revealing the tears that were welling in Gerome’s eyes. She was going to pull it all the way off, but he caught her wrist before she could.

 

“If you expect me to have your hand, you could at least have the courtesy to show yourself to me while you ask.” Lucina’s whole attitude shifted in front of him, from the girlish princess to a regal Exalt, aging herself years in just a single second. Her words weren’t a suggestion so much as an order, making Gerome drop her hand—and the mask.

 

He was bare in front of her now, but still looking away. “I’m asking because I love you, Lucina. And I thought you felt the same way. We are in a war, either one of us could die at any time. Call this an act of desperation, call it whatever you will. But Lucina, will you have my hand?”

 

Lucina dropped her hands down to her lap, then slowly reached for Gerome’s hand. “Is that what you were doing in my father’s tent?” She was cautious as she touched him, taking her time pulling off one of his gloves, then intertwining her fingers with his. Gerome shuddered at the sudden contact of her soft hands, the way she always made him feel _different_.

 

“Absolutely not. We were discussing battle strategies. We march out in a few hours.”

 

“You shouldn’t lie to your Exalt.” Lucina said, cracking a small smile.

 

“ _Future_ Exalt.”

 

“You asked my father for my hand.” Lucina raised an eyebrow and gave his hand a small squeeze, and he immediately blushed. She was glad that she could see it, see the happiness on his face without the cover of the mask. After the events of the morning, she was glad to have something—someone nice happen to her.

 

“Out of courtesy.”

 

“Did he look like he was going to slice you to bits?” Lucina giggled, which made Gerome frown.

 

“You’re avoiding the question.”

 

“You’re avoiding mine.” Lucina leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to Gerome’s lips, lingering for a second longer than she thought that she should. Gerome looked away again as she pulled back, dropping her hand to look for his mask.

 

There were too many emotions welling up inside of him, and he didn’t want her to see. His walls were down and it was uncomfortable and he felt almost naked in front of her, despite being covered in pounds of black armor.

 

“Yes. I asked your father.” He admitted, which made Lucina chuckle again.

 

“To think, only a few short years ago he never thought he’d be answering that question so _soon_.”

 

“A casualty of our situation.” Gerome said with a sigh. He was about to pocket the ring again when Lucina took a deep breath and held out her left hand.

 

“Gerome. Will you be the sword at my side?” Lucina asked, her blue eyes focusing on his own. The eye contact made him nervous, but he nodded.

 

“Yes.” Gerome grunted, right before slipping his mother’s ring onto Lucina’s finger. It was heavy and silver and ornate, a treasure from his parents’ homeland of Roseanne, but it slipped onto Lucina’s finger with ease and grace. Gerome opened his mouth to say something else, but Lucina cut him off with a kiss.

 

“We’ll be marching soon. We can celebrate our engagement after we come home victorious.” She got up on her feet quickly, prancing back through the woods to camp without waiting for him. He looked down at the ground to see that she had left his mask beside him, and he wasted no time replacing it on his face. There was a war to be fought, and no time for everyone to see him as a blushing dandy.

 

Gerome took a second to pull himself up and follow Lucina back, ready to get on with the day’s fight, when Owain came into the clearing with a frown.

 

“O’ Fierce Dragon Lord, your assistance is sorely needed!” He called, which made Gerome roll his eyes.

 

“What is it now?”

 

“The King of the Rabbits is—“

 

“Without the crap.” Gerome corrected, which made Owain sigh and cross his arms over his chest.

 

“Noire went ‘Blood and Thunder’ on Yarne, and now he’s freaking out about going extinct again. You’re the only one that can shut him up before we go out.”

 

“I’ll be there in a moment.” Gerome groaned, following the other boy back to camp without another word.


	7. Chapter 7

Surprisingly Yarne was easier to calm down than Inigo was the one time someone put a hair dying potion in his shampoo, but it was still a chore. By the time that Gerome caught up with Lucina on the way to the Risen-infested town that they were going to rescue, he was at the end of his rope. “Gerome. It’s nice of you to finally join us.” Lucina said with a smirk, but her expression quickly fell when she noticed her brother walking over with Cynthia.

 

            “I would have been on time if Minerva didn’t find a family of deer to snack on.” Gerome said while patting the back of the wyvern’s neck. “I couldn’t take a hungry wyvern into battle.”

 

            “If she began to eat the Risen, then it could have been useful.” Lucina tried to force a small laugh, but her mind was still on Morgan and the secret that he revealed to her that morning. “One moment, Gerome. I need to discuss… Tactics with my brother.”

 

            Gerome could tell that Lucina wasn’t being truthful, but when it came to the royal family there were many things that didn’t add up. He just tried to ignore it, even though he would be marrying into the mess. “Go. I will continue to cover you in battle.”

 

            “And I you.”  The princess gave him a small smile, then walked towards Morgan. Her brother was conversing with the young Pegasus knight, talking about their strategies in battle, or rather how Cynthia was going to appear on the battlefield sprinkling rose petals down from the sky.

 

            “Morgan, may I have a word with you?” Lucina asked as she came up next to her brother, who immediately began scowling.

 

            “I don’t want to talk, Lucina.” He said with his arms crossed over his chest. However, she wasn’t backing down. Morgan knew that when his sister got like this there was no reasoning with her, but he could be just as stubborn.

 

            “Do mother and father know?” Lucina asked. She didn’t have to mention what it was, Morgan knew as soon as the words left her mouth. He felt anger and betrayal surge inside of him, but he tried his hardest to keep it down.

 

            “Not yet. But I can’t. Not with mom the way she is.” He began fumbling with the fabric of his robe that hovered over the marked skin, reminding both of them of its presence. “I don’t… I don’t want to die, Lucina. But I don’t want to hurt anyone either.” Lucina frowned and mussed her kid brother’s hair, trying to give him some sort of hope.

 

            “You won’t. I won’t let you.” She gave him a smile, though she couldn’t even make it a promise. After all, she now bore the mark as well. She had just as much of a chance of being corrupted as he did. Lucina was about to go to return to Gerome when Morgan grabbed her wrist to keep her there.

 

            “What is that?” He asked, pointing to the hand that Gerome’s ring was sitting on. “That’s not mom’s.” Lucina immediately pulled her hand back and tried to keep it away from Morgan, but he was her younger brother and wouldn’t drop the subject.

 

            “You’re right. It’s mine.”

 

            “Is not.” Morgan protested, trying to dart around his sister to get another look. “Lucina, where did you get that?” She was darting her hand all around to try to keep him from getting a good look at it, but he had a few inches on her now, and was able to snag it out of the air.

 

            “That’s Gerome’s ring.” Morgan concluded after he slipped it off of his sister’s finger. He turned it over in his hands, then gave it back to Lucina with a frown. “Why do you have Gerome’s ring?”

 

            “He _gave_ it to me.” Lucina snapped, trying to shove her brother away. Yes, he had to know sooner or later, but she didn’t want the whole army being distracted by her engagement when there were Risen to slay.

 

            “That’s your _left_ hand, Lucina.”

 

            “I suppose it is, Morgan.” Lucina was very red in the face now, trying to figure out how she was supposed to get out of this. The only thing she could think of was running, but if she ran back to Gerome Morgan would know there was something amiss.

 

            “Are you marrying Gerome?” Morgan hissed under his breath, trying to keep Cynthia from hearing. She was the biggest blabbermouth of all the Shepherds, and if she heard anything from their conversation then everyone in the camp would know.

 

            “Not at this moment!” Lucina whispered back, which made Morgan raise an eyebrow.

 

            “I would hope not. Hey Libra, come marry us while I wear a veil of a Risen’s intestines!” Morgan mocked, but Lucina slapped him on the back of the hand.

 

            “Shh. I believe that’s how Tharja had her wedding. Don’t be rude.” Morgan raised an eyebrow, but before he could reply, Lucina was already back towards Gerome.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time they reached the village, there was chaos everywhere. People were dead in the streets, a few houses were on fire, and the smell of blood hung thick in the air. Lucina looked over to Gerome, who assisted her with mounting Minerva. They had been told to go to the edge of the town where the leader of the brigand of the dead was residing, and the easiest way to get their was in the air.

 

            Lucina was never a fan of flying, in fact being on horseback was often too much for her. Soaring through the air on a wyvern, the only thing keeping her from plummeting to her death was her grip on Gerome, it was making her slightly dizzy. She only enjoyed the acrobatics if they were on _her_ terms.

 

            “I’ll never get used to this…” She said, but Gerome couldn’t hear as the wind was whipping around his ears.

 

            “Hold on tight. Minerva is going to land.” Gerome said, turning his head to make sure that she could hear him. Lucina nodded, bracing herself for their landing. Gerome pressed a light kiss to her cheek, and seconds later she descended off of the Wyvern to land on the grass beneath them. Minerva flew back up into the air almost as quickly as she had landed, leaving Lucina to handle the units in front of them.

 

            A group of Risen took notice of her landing and came running over, but Lucina saw ahead. She unsheathed Falchion in a swift motion and drew it in front of her, ready for battle. Above her she could hear the screech of griffon clashing with Minerva above, but she didn’t have the time to stop and watch. An archer was sneaking up on her paramour, and Lucina wasted no time rushing him.

 

            The archer was getting ready to aim at the wyvern, but Lucina came up from behind and plunged Falchion into its chest. She cringed at the foul smell that oozed out of the Risen, the black ooze that was once blood covering her blade as she removed it from the corpse. Before she could wipe it off, the goo and the body turned to dust and blew away in the wind. At least for a moment, Gerome would be safe.

 

The screeches above were concerning her, but she heard the whizz of an arrow and the cackling of Noire, right before the griffon rider came crashing to the ground with a sickening crunch.

 

            The battle was raging on as far as the eye could see. There were sparks of spells flying all around them, arrows zipping through the air, the clink of swords against axes and axes against lances and lances against swords… If Lucina hadn’t been raised in this kind of mess, it would have been overwhelming. But, she was a soldier, a princess, an _Exalt_.

 

            A Risen falcon knight came barreling towards her with its lance, but she managed to jump and roll out of the way. In a flash, she sprung to her feet and got into position to strike, but Gerome came flying down and struck the beast with his axe, effectively slicing it in two.

 

            “Thank you.” Lucina said with a nod, but Gerome shrugged her off.

 

            “No need.” He gave her a small smile before flying back up in the air, surveying the battlegrounds from his vantage point. He could see pretty far from his height, watched as everyone fought with such determination. He could see his mother floating in the air over a mile away from him, with his father most likely down below picking off anyone he could hit with his bow.

 

            Gerome hadn’t told his parents about anything that happened with Lucina, not even their engagement. There was a nagging feeling in his chest that made him think that he should, but there was also a part of him that scoffed at the idea.

 

The Cherche and Virion fighting in this time, they weren’t his parents. His parents died back in his time, leaving him an orphan for the greater good. Gerome knew that they loved him very much, even the pair from this time, but he couldn’t help but feel _betrayed_ by their deaths. He had been so young, and it hit him so hard…

 

            Gerome looked down below to see Lucina cut down a mage in front of her. He watched as she swung Falchion through the air and cringed when he heard the crack of sword on bone, but the cut that she made, cleaving open the side of the zombie, was clean. He was so entranced in watching her and his _personal_ problems that he barely noticed the swordmaster coming up behind the princess.

 

            “Lucina!” He shouted, trying to get her attention, though he was slammed from the side by another wyvern rider. The Risen’s axe barely missed Gerome, but the collision had hurt. He sucked in a deep, painful breath through his teeth but before he could assess the damage he had to return to the fight.

 

Down below, Lucina turned to the sound of Gerome’s voice, only to see the crash occur. She watched in horror, not realizing that there was danger so close to herself. By the time that Lucina noticed the swordmaster it was already too late. A long blade plunged into her abdomen, searing through her flesh like fire. Her eyes went wide and blank as she crashed to the ground, unable to move.

 

            “Lucina!” Gerome screamed again, this time in absolute horror. He came flying down and jumped off of Minerva to plunge his axe into the swordmaster. The wyvern rider turned around to see Minerva curled around the injured Lucina, protecting her like a mother wolf protects her pups. He could hear some of the others that were nearby voicing their concerns, but they had too many enemies to fight off before they could do anything about Lucina.

 

            Gerome couldn’t see any blood, so for a moment he thought that maybe, just maybe she wasn’t all that hurt. Maybe she was just pretending. But she wasn’t _getting up_ , just writhing on the ground and clutching her side. “Lucina… No…” Gerome mumbled as he got closer. Minerva had lifted up her wing to let him close, while still blocking the two from any attacks.

 

            Lucina’s response was incoherent, just a conglomeration of strangled cries and whimpers of pain. Gerome knew that she wouldn’t like it, but he had to get her onto Minerva and off of the battlefield.

 

Years of wielding axes had made his body strong, but he struggled to lift the dead weight that was his fiancée onto Minerva’s back, especially with the pain from the crash. Thankfully the wyvern assisted him, angling herself in such a way that Gerome could get Lucina up. He mounted Minerva behind Lucina, making sure to hold onto her as he took off into the sky.

 

            “Lucina. Lucina!” Gerome said, trying to keep her awake. “Stay with me. Please.” He was starting to get flashbacks from his childhood, from when Chrom appeared at the cottage where he had been living with his parents, only to tell him that they had perished in the battle.

 

He had lost them, now he couldn’t lose Lucina too. Thankfully Minerva understood the gravity of the situation and zipped through the air like an arrow in flight. However, it still seemed like forever before they touched down in front of the medical tent.

 

            “Brady!” Gerome shouted as he dismounted Minerva and carried Lucina off. He was struggling to hold her, as his entire side was aching, but Lucina’s injuries were much graver than his own.

 

            “Yeah?” the priest said as he came out of the tent, a staff in hand. “What in the…?” As soon as he caught site of the limping Gerome carrying their princess, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Lucina had never been so careless as to get this hurt. Sure, she wasn’t so divine that she never came back injured, but to be within an inch of her life was just… unexpected.

 

            “Help me get her inside.” Gerome ordered, his voice sharp and angry.

 

            “What’s the magic word, Twinkle toes?”

 

            “Now.” Gerome snapped, and Brady sighed heavily. He was less muscular than Gerome, but he was able to lift her and bring her into the tent. The priest laid her out gently on one of the cots, then watched as Gerome limped in beside her.

 

            “Help me with this stinkin armor, will you?” Brady asked, and Gerome complied, going to work to undo all the clasps that held the metal to her body. They all clanged to the ground without much of a care, revealing a mess of blood seeping into the fabric of her tunic.

 

            Lucina was still coherent, though just barely. She was screaming in intense pain, calling out for her mother and her father and for Naga and anyone else who would listen. Brady went to work peeling the tunic and the padding under her armor off, leaving her and the gash open and exposed. Gerome ripped the sheet off of the cot beside him and began wrapping it around Lucina’s breasts, wanting to give her some sort of dignity while she was lying there.

 

            “Lucina… Stay with me.” Gerome pleaded, taking a second to push a few strands of sweat-stuck hair off of her forehead. She lifted her hand and caught his, using almost all of her strength to entwine her fingers with his.

 

            “This is super bad. Whaddya think you were doing?” Brady scolded as he turned around to grab some supplies. He grabbed a rag and dipped it in a bucket of water, as the sheer amount of blood everywhere was obscuring the wound.

 

“This won’t be fun.” He mumbled as he began wiping the blood off, which made Lucina’s back arch off of the bed as she cried out in pain. The bloody water ran down her side, turning the sheets a rusty color while it revealed the wound.

 

The gash was several inches across, the width of a broadsword, and it was deep, curving upward into her stomach cavity. Brady bit his lip as he looked at it, then walked over to the wall where several staves sat. “You think we should call up the queen?” he asked Gerome, who wasn’t quite paying attention. “Gerome?”

 

            “I’m sorry?” He asked, still holding Lucina’s hand at her bedside. He was distracted by Lucina’s injury and his own pain, but had heard the word ‘queen’ somewhere in there.

 

            “Gods! Mother!” Lucina shrieked, before everything devolved back into nonsensical strangled cries of pain.

 

            “Summon the Queen.” Gerome said with a nod, but Brady was busy with his staff.

 

            “In the middlea somthin’.” Brady snapped, but Gerome didn’t want to leave Lucina’s side.

 

            “Someone has to get her!” Gerome protested, but before Brady could argue back, Lucina screeched again.

 

            “Mother! Gods, mother it _hurts_!” Her body was shaking and the grip she had on Gerome’s hand was nearly crushing the bones in his fingers. Before either of the boys broke the stalemate, the queen came dashing into the tent, her face pale white.

 

            “Oh Gods…” Robin proclaimed, before rushing to the side of her daughter. Though in this time she wasn’t much older than the girl on the cot, the queen still had the same feelings of love towards the girl as she had for the toddler growing up in the Ylissian palace. Robin grabbed her daughter’s hand, trying her hardest to cover the brand upon her skin while comforting her. “What happened?”

 

            “I wasn’t able to cover her fast enough. She was attacked and I couldn’t stop it. This is my fault. I am deeply ashamed.” Gerome looked down at the floor, even though he knew that if Lucina were coherent she would defend him to the ends of the Earth. He had his own injury that had prevented him from knocking the swordmaster out of the way, there was no way he could have gotten there in time… but the guilt still sat on Gerome’s shoulders like the entire weight of the world.

 

            Brady finished mumbling a few words and his staff glowed a bright blue, shining its light over the writhing Lucina. “She’ll live. But it ain’t gonna be pretty.” The bleeding had stopped and it seemed like Lucina was slightly calmer, but the wound was still ragged and gaping. Gerome winced just looking at it, though his own pain was probably contributing.

 

            The priest turned around to retrieve a small blue glass bottle, which he uncorked between his teeth. He spat the stopper out onto the floor, where it fell with a clang. “Someone grab her somethin to bite on. This is goina be as fun as gettin teeth pulled.” Gerome immediately got up to grab a leather strap from one of the drawers, as Brady was rather preoccupied, though he limped all the way.

 

            “You ain’t lookin so hot yourself.” Brady commented as Gerome came back and sat down in the chair next to the bed. The queen was stroking her daughter’s sweat-soaked hair, trying to ease her through the pain. However Brady was the only healer at the camp at the moment. Gerome looked down at Lucina and gave a sigh, pulling his mask off of his face to show the worry in his eyes. She refused the offering at first, turning her head before he could do anything.

 

            “Here, Lucina.” Gerome cooed, cupping a side of her face in his hand. “Please listen to Brady.” He offered her the strap again, meeting her eyes with his, and though she was woozy and in pain, she reluctantly bit down on it.

 

            “Ready to roll, then.” Brady said with a small laugh. He cracked his knuckles out in front of him before kneeling down to pour the contents of the blue bottle on her wound. The first drop burned like acid on her skin, felt like all of her flesh was going to melt away. She began to writhe and thrash in pain, clamping down on her mother’s hand with the grip of a wyvern’s jaw, though the leather strap in her mouth seemed to be doing its job.

 

            “I know, dear. But this’ll make you feel better.” Robin said to her daughter, who was still squirming even after Brady was done.

 

            “She’s not gonna be comfortable for a bit, but she’s gonna live. I’ll have Ma check on her later. Gerome, you gotta let me take a look.”

 

            “I’m _fine.”_ Gerome snapped, placing his mask back on his face with a grunt. Her went to stand up and storm out, but his leg collapsed under him and he ended up falling to the ground with a thud.

 

            “You look fine indeed.” Robin said with a raised eyebrow, which made Gerome’s face turn red. Leave it to the queen to call him out on his bullshit.

 

            “I don’t need assistance.” Gerome protested again, but once Brady was done wrapping Lucina in bandages, he meant business.

 

            “Look. Even the queen can see. Sit your ass down. Because you sure don’t want Ma taking a look at it.” Brady raised an eyebrow, and Gerome swallowed hard. Maribelle was known for her lectures while healing, and while she was very talented at her job, she also was a massive pain in the ass.

 

            “Your queen commands it.” Robin teased, which made Lucina smile even though she was still woozy on the bed. She pulled the leather strap out of her mouth and looked over at Gerome on the floor, her eyes still cringed in pain.

 

            “I am going to recover, Gerome. Please… don’t ignore your health.” Lucina cringed and turned her head back as it was more comfortable to remain still.

 

            “Get some sleep, My Lucina.” Gerome insisted as he pulled himself up to a stand. “And I’ll get fixed up.”

 

            “Do you promise?” She asked, her voice quaking. Gerome nodded in response, and he did intend to keep his promise. He just wondered if she would believe him.

 

            “All right!” Brady said with a thunderous clap of his hands, which prevented the princess from falling asleep. Brady happened to be loud and outrageous, though not as intense as Owain, which made him a far from _delicate_ healer. Couple that with the fact that he was quite scary looking with the deep scar on his face and Gerome even wondered why the man joined the priesthood. “Let me see.”

 

            Gerome rolled his eyes and began to unbuckle his armor, though he was straining to stand properly. He could feel Brady and the queen’s eyes on him, watching as he struggled. He knew he could be hard-headed, and the last thing that he wanted to do was show weakness, especially in front of his future mother-in-law, but he eventually resigned to sitting down on the cot next to Lucina’s to remove the last layers.

 

            The rider was down to his smallclothes, revealing deep purple-black bruises from ankle to hip, dancing like a galaxy against his skin. Gerome was perturbed by the extent of the injuries, but not surprised. Colliding with a wyvern in the way that he did, he was surprised he was even able to walk away. He had seen full-grown men lose legs because their armor twisted into their flesh, slicing through muscle and bone.

 

            “That’s a doozy.” Brady said with a whistle, and though Gerome wouldn’t put it into those words he couldn’t agree more. He looked over at Lucina only to find her sleeping, and he silently praised Naga that she didn’t see how badly he really made it out. “No wonder you couldn’t cover her.”

 

            Gerome cringed at the comment but lied back on the cot, crossing his arm tightly over his chest. Brady got to work quickly, applying salves and using staves to try to recede the bruising. “Better take it easy for a couple days, Slick.” Brady said with a wink, then went off out of the tent, probably to fetch something to eat. Gerome reclined in his cot, letting his mind wander, when the silence was broken by a blue-haired boy running inside.

 

            “Mother.” Morgan said, dusting himself off and straightening his cloak when he entered. “I was told you were in—“ He cut himself off when he saw his sister laying still, her face curled in pain even though she was sleeping. Gerome watched the boy take one step closer, but he paused several feet short of his family.

 

            “What happened to Lucina?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. It looked like he had just come from the battle, as there was blood and dirt spattered on his face and he still carried a tome in his hand. Before anyone could answer, Chrom came running in in a similar state to Morgan, panting as he came to a stop.

 

            “Where’s Lucina?” He asked, looking from his son to his wife to his daughter, then finally to Gerome who was caught in the middle of the entire royal family’s reunion. He grunted as he pulled himself to a sit, letting his feet touch the floor. He pulled his trousers on hastily, then looked over at Chrom.

 

            “While I appreciate the love being spread through the tent, I will leave everyone in privacy.” Gerome waited a beat as he tested whether or not he could put weight on his injured leg. “I will be back soon for Lucina… She is very… dear to me.”

 

            Gerome didn’t say another word as he left the tent with a swish of his cape, limping back to the seclusion and solace of his own tent. It was on the edge of the camp, far away from the other children from the future, just how he liked it. It was in the shade of the trees where Minerva liked to perch, and kept the sunlight out. He preferred the darkness as his eyes were rather sensitive, though everyone just assumed it was part of his brooding crusader persona.

 

            Minerva was waiting for him outside, licking her talons clean from the blood of a fresh kill, but as soon as he drew near she looked up. Gerome could see the worry in her big brown eyes, as the beast had taken a liking to Lucina. However, once she saw the gait of her rider, she came crawling over to Gerome, sniffing him cautiously. She could tell he was hurt, and she quickly wrapped a wing around him with a hiss.

 

            “Minerva, there is no need to worry.” Gerome cooed to the wyvern, but she wasn’t giving up. At this point in his life he knew not to disagree with her, after all she was the one with the sharper teeth. He leaned against her cool skin as she bathed in the sunlight, the shade of her body enveloping him in a lovely familiar glow. “It doesn’t hurt as badly as it looks.” He gave her a soft pat and closed his eyes, intending to only rest them, but quickly fell asleep.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Lucina was only pretending to be sleeping while her family sat around her bedside. They were all fairly striking, especially when all together. Chrom and the children all had the same bright cobalt hair, making the queen stand out quite obviously.

 

Morgan had inherited her Plegian nose, though Lucina had gotten her eyes and build. But the facial features weren’t the only things Morgan and Lucina got from their mother. Now they had to carry the burden of being a possible host for the Fell Dragon, Grima.

 

            “Mother, Father…” Morgan began, his voice quaking slightly. Lucina wanted to be able to sit up and engage with her family, but she knew that this was a delicate manner and if she didn’t at least pretend to sleep, someone would use a spell to make sure she got there.

 

After all, getting run through with a sword was a serious injury that required rest. Lucina was in too much pain to sleep, and to top it all off she was crushed with worry for her little brother. He was a lot braver than she was being.

 

            “Morgan?” Robin asked. Lucina could hear her rise from her seat, as well as a few sniffles coming from Morgan. “If this is about what happened with Lucina last night…”

 

            “It’s not.” Morgan snapped. “Even though that was horse plop and she knows it.”

 

            “Morgan.” Chrom scolded, but he didn’t say anything more. He didn’t want to hurt Robin or Lucina’s feelings, but he too thought the whole thing was awful.

 

            “My brand has surfaced.” Morgan said, but the tone of his voice was anything but excited. Of course, Lucina already knew what was coming next, but her parents did not.

 

            “It did? Well that’s…” Chrom’s voice trailed off, and Lucina could hear the jangle of his armor as he stood up. “Oh no.”

 

            “I can’t go out tomorrow,” Morgan began, “what if Validar can control me too? What if he uses me to hurt you, Father?”

 

            “Keep your voice down, Morgan.” Robin hushed, her voice coming out more like a hiss than Lucina had ever heard from her. Lucina swallowed a lump forming in her throat, but everything was becoming so overwhelming. The past was flying full steam ahead into her horrific future, all so much faster than it had occurred in her time.

 

            “I’m scared, mother.” Morgan said, his voice dropping to a whisper. Lucina desperately wanted to hug her brother and tell him that everything was going to be all right, but she didn’t want to make any promises that she knew she could not keep.

 

            “Don’t be, Morgan. We’ll think of a plan. Together.” Lucina could hear the smile in her mother’s voice, warm like honey. It was the voice that had soothed her to sleep as a child, the voice that calmed her when she cried, the voice that she needed right now—even though she was supposed to be the strong one that knew what to do.

 

            Lucina heard rustling, followed by footsteps. Her family was leaving, probably for supper. It was about that time now, but still Lucina was stuck on the cot with searing pain ripping through her body. She huffed and tried to actually fall asleep to no avail.

 

            When she was sure that no one was left in the tent, she slowly pulled herself to a sit and blinked a few times. Severa hadn’t showed up at all, which was either a sign that she was out dragging her father on a shopping spree or that she was dead. Lucina hoped it was the former rather than the latter, and it was more typical of her anyway.

 

            Her hair had pretty much fallen out of the braid it had been put in that morning, and it was so caked with blood and sweat and dirt that the style didn’t particularly matter anyway. She ran her fingers through it, trying to dislodge any tangles, though she knew it needed a good wash, and kicked her legs off of the side of the cot.

 

            Lucina’s feet touched down on the ground and she pulled herself up to a stand, even though it was incredibly painful to do so. Her head spun and her vision doubled for a moment, but she couldn’t spend any more time lying around _useless_.

 

She looked around quickly for her clothing, though she soon found that her tunic was unwearable, due to the fact that it was soaked in her blood. Lucina sighed and tried to find something in the tent that she could use to cover herself, though she quickly caught sight of Gerome’s shirt on the ground. He was significantly taller than her, which made the shirt hang low and large on her, but it was good enough for the moment.

 

Lucina was still in a crippling amount of pain when she began walking out of the tent, first to the bathing tent, then towards Gerome’s. She was hoping that she wouldn’t run into any of the other Shepherds on her walk, as they would end up telling her parents, and then she would end up in the cot again. But, it seemed as if everyone was at dinner.

 

Lucina sucked in a hard breath as a flash of pain zipped through her body, but she pushed herself to continue the walk. It was already twilight and her head was woozy, but luckily the bath was warm and the walk was short.

 

She could see Minerva lying in the grass, curled up like a sleeping cat next to the tent, which was odd for such an hour. Her last few steps were quiet and cautious, but she was met with a hiss from the wyvern.

 

“Shhh… Minerva, it’s just me.” Lucina said as she walked closer, holding out a gentle hand in front of her. It had taken her a while to get used to being around Minerva, as she _was_ a giant man-eating dragon beast.

 

Lucina didn’t have the same affections for her as Gerome did, but she had a solid appreciation for her might. The wyvern gave her a look as Lucina pat her, but as she wasn’t well versed in the delicate art of translating Minerva’s actions, she wasn’t quite sure what it meant.

 

She gently nudged Lucina’s head with her snout, then lifted up a wing to reveal the napping Gerome. Lucina couldn’t help but smile, as he looked so peaceful in his sleep. She knew he was often the last to slumber in the camp, and for years she watched it take a toll on him until he crashed, slept for nearly a day, then repeated the process over again.

 

He didn’t seem to stir even though his wyvern blanket had been removed, so she went over to take a seat next to him. After all the walking she had done, she deserved it. Lucina slunk to the ground and placed her head, though her hair was still wet, on Gerome’s bare chest. He didn’t wake at first, but as soon as Lucina closed her eyes his fluttered open. In the bliss of sleep he smiled at the mop of deep blue hair splayed against his skin, but as he blinked the sleep from his eyes he quickly remembered what had happened earlier.

 

“Lucina?” Geroma asked, stroking her hair. “What are you doing here?” His words got harsher as the concern grew on his face, but Lucina just shrugged it off.

 

“Coming to see you. I thought that was quite clear.” Lucina said. She began to shrug, but ended up curling up from the wave of pain that coursed through her body.

 

“You should be in bed.” Gerome grunted, looking away with a frown. “You’re completely disregarding the importance of your health!”

 

“I couldn’t stay in there any longer.” Lucina said as she leaned on Gerome, now unable to sit up. Her eyes were half shut and her breathing was rather ragged, so much so that Minerva was beginning to worry. The wyvern leaned down and nudged at Lucina with her snout, though the gesture did more harm than good.

 

“Lucina, you can barely remain upright.” Gerome snapped. He went to stand up so that he could carry her back, but she grabbed his wrist to stop him.

 

“May I stay with you instead?”

 

“That wouldn’t be wise.”

 

“If we are to be married, we must learn to take care of each other.” Lucina dropped Gerome’s wrist, and he quickly pulled it to his chest. “And as I remember, you were injured today as well.”

 

“To a much lesser extent. I should recover in a few days’ time.” Gerome looked down at Lucina, then frowned. “Is that my shirt?”

 

“You left it in the medical tent. I needed something to wear.”

 

“I suppose so.” Gerome looked off into the distance again, though it was nearly dark and there wasn’t much to particularly look at. His brooding wasn’t a new concept to Lucina, even after years of experiencing it, but it never got less irritating. “If I let you stay, will you promise to rest?”

 

“I don’t think I have much of a choice at the moment.” Lucina said, her face twisted up. Gerome sighed and leaned down, ignoring the pain from his bruises, to pick Lucina up in his arms. She was a lot heavier than she looked, considering she was rather petite, but composed of all raw muscle from training. Her arms went around Gerome’s neck so that they had a better grip on each other, and he walked them into the tent.

 

Gerome laid Lucina down on his bedroll, careful to be as gentle as possible. The corner of her mouth twitched up into a half smile, which Gerome reluctantly returned. His bedroll was warm and smelled of him, woodsy and dark and mysterious. “How is your leg?” Lucina asked, but Gerome ignored her question in favor of finding a pail in his stacks of junk.

 

“You’re burning up, Lucina. I’ll be back. Please stay.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he had already left. Instead she took a minute to get cozy in the sheets and blankets. They weren’t as luxurious as the ones that adorned her own bed, but then again Gerome wasn’t the princess of Ylisse. Still, they were of nice quality, probably from somewhere in Roseanne. It had been such a lovely country in Valm, before the war had ravaged its landscapes. Or at least that’s what all of the history books said.

 

Lucina barely noticed Gerome coming back in, but she blamed the fever for the most part. It wasn’t an uncommon side effect of having powerful healing spells thrown on you, but it was an unpleasant one. “I… I have brought you dinner as well.”

 

“I’m not hungry.”

 

“Very well, then.” Gerome cleared his throat and took a few steps towards her with the bucket, then retrieved a rag from one of the baskets. He dipped it into the cold water from the pail, then wrung it out and placed it on her forehead to mop up the sweat beading on her brow.

 

Lucina winced at the sudden contact, but she let Gerome continue. While Lucina wasn’t a fan of being coddled, she took it better than Gerome who was still limping around. The cold rag and his gentle touch felt soothing against her skin, but still she frowned. “Gerome?”

 

“Hm?” He mumbled, one hand still in the pail. Lucina didn’t respond, that wasn’t her plan. She lifted a hand up and slid his mask off of his face, revealing a few purple bruises on his cheekbones. “Lucina…” He turned away quickly before she could touch him, hiding from her.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

“Not as much as your injuries.”

 

“It isn’t a contest.” Lucina looked up at him with her piercing stare, the mark of the Exalt glowing in the bright blue of her eyes. Her gaze was glassy, glazed over with fatigue and pain. Gerome could see it, though he knew he couldn’t do much. After all, he was a killer and not a healer.

 

“I suppose you are correct.”

 

“My pain does not negate yours.” Lucina reached up slowly and cupped Gerome’s face in her hand, running her thumb over the bruise. He winced and drew back, as the contact stung.

 

“ _Don’t._ ” he snapped, nudging her hand down so that he could place the compress back on her forehead. “Let me take care of your fever before you dote on me like a wounded rabbit.”

 

“Don’t let Yarne hear you make comments like that.” Lucina chuckled, and Gerome reluctantly cracked a smile.

 

“That is rather true. Though as we fear death, he fears the ending of his race. It’s a large burden.”

 

“Not necessarily.” Lucina said, blinking a few times. Gerome raised an eyebrow and pulled back the compress, now warm in his hands.

 

“I would think s—“

 

“I meant. I don’t necessarily fear death.” Lucina tapped her chin idly, which made Gerome pause in the middle of wringing out the rag. “We’ve had so much responsibility thrust upon us from such a young age. Our time is uninhabitable, and this time is quickly following.”

 

“Go on.” Gerome mumbled, placing the fabric on her again.

 

“It would be easier.”

 

“What happened to Princess ‘I challenge my fate’?”

 

“She’s getting rather tired. Mother always taught us that we decide our own destinies… she refused to believe that there was no free will to the universe. But after seeing how history shifts to the path of least resistance… Maybe mother was wrong.”

 

“Silence. Enough of this foolish blabber.” Gerome reached to grab the mask off of the bedside table, but Lucina caught his hand, causing him to scowl. “You will… We will prevent the past from becoming our future. You are alive for a reason, don’t give up for one setback.”

 

“Validar has the Fire Emblem, Gerome.”

 

“And we will retrieve it.”

 

“Not in time. Not with mother and Mor—“ Lucina caught herself before she finished, but there was no doubt that Gerome had heard what she said. However, he didn’t question it, putting the bucket down to crawl into the bedroll next to her.

 

“Here. You may lay on me if you choose.” Lucina looked up at him and shifted so that her head was resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around her to pull her closer to him. “We will be victorious. Please don’t lose hope. But please get some rest.” Lucina was beginning to close her eyes when the entrance to Gerome’s tent flew open, allowing Severa to strut in.

 

“Gerome!” She shouted before she looked towards the bed. She was standing in a way that exuded attitude; her weight was all on one foot, a hand on her cocked out hip. The scowl on her face was legendary, but she was more focused on shouting than searching. “Lucina is—“ Severa rolled her eyes as she final saw the two lying in the bedroll, cutting herself off as the image had already answered her question.

 

“Looks like I found her.” She shrugged and took a few steps towards them, as she didn’t seem to care that the two were trying to rest. Severa pulled a small package out from one of the pockets on her belt, then handed it to Lucina. The parcel was wrapped in a printed brown paper and tied up with a delicate twine, but the princess already knew what was inside.

 

“I picked up your favorite chocolates while I was at the market.” She said sheepishly, but her posture showed that she had no intentions of leaving. Severa sat down on the ground cross-legged with a frown, though the one on Gerome’s face was much bigger.

 

“Thank you, Severa. That was very kind of you.” Lucina gave a small smile, though she knew she wouldn’t be eating the chocolates for at least another few days. The idea of food was revolting, though sleep wasn’t sounding much better.

 

“Gawds, Lucina. Don’t make this into something that it isn’t!” Severa paused and shifted, her face going red. “I would have come sooner, but.” She swallowed and looked away, though Lucina knew exactly what she meant. It was hard for all of them, having their parents die while they were just children, but Severa’s case was different. She had watched them get torn apart by Risen, all trying to save her.

 

“I know. But I will recover.” Lucina paused for a beat, turning the package over in her hands, still leaning against Gerome.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t do something this stupid again, all right?” Severa gave her a small and sad smile, then got back to her feet. “I’ll leave you two to… whatever you’re planning on doing. Goodnight.”

 

“Night, Severa.”

 

The mercenary left the tent almost as quickly as she had entered, but Gerome and Lucina were finally alone. “We should… get some rest.” Lucina mumbled as she snuggled up tighter against Gerome. Her skin was still hot and flushed with fever, a pale contrast to the splotches of bruises painted all over Gerome’s skin.

 

He was quite flustered by Lucina’s close contact, as he hadn’t had time to really get used to the idea that the princess reciprocated his feelings. But there she was, holding on to him as if he could float away at any minute… though in the times they were living in that wasn’t such a farfetched idea. “Yes… You must sleep, Lucina.”

 

“I’m not the only one who needs it.” Lucina teased, but Gerome scoffed at her comment. He knew that if he didn’t rest his pain would only get worse, but at the same time he had to make sure that she made it through the night. She sat up slowly, just enough so that she could press the lightest of kisses to his bruised cheekbone, and he nudged her back down as soon as she was done.

 

“I will rest in my own time.” Gerome grunted. She sighed heavily at his comment, but knew that reasoning with him when it came to his own self-care was moot. She shifted onto her side, the one without the injury, and Gerome followed suit.

 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, spooning her in the tight confines of the bedroll. Her eyes were beginning to close when he pressed a small kiss to the top of her head. “I love you.” Gerome whispered.

 

“And I you.”


	10. Chapter 10

The night had been long and hard, with Lucina waking every few hours from the pain, her fever spiking so much that Gerome almost had to bathe her in the nearby stream to get it down to a manageable level.

 

Her sleep was light and unsteady and full of nightmares, though she wouldn’t tell him what they were about. Every time he would ease her mind by singing sweet Valmese folk songs, though he wasn’t as musically inclined as Inigo or Brady, and their tunes would lull her back to sleep.

 

            Lucina had finally settled down by the time the sun had rose and shone its light through the canvas of the tent, though her hair and nightclothes were soaked through with sweat. Her fever had broken in the wee hours of the morning, but Gerome knew that there was no way that Lucina would be able to battle.

 

            The breakfast bell was ringing, but Lucina was so peaceful that he didn’t want to rouse her from her slumber. He usually took his meals alone, so no one would bat an eye if he slunk off with extras. Most of the other Shepherds stood clear of Gerome, due to his brooding moodiness. The other children were the only ones that readily interacted with him, and they all knew not to ask too many questions.

 

            Gerome slipped out of bed without disturbing the sleeping princess and managed to clean himself up and throw on a change of clothes without making too much noise. He slipped on his mask while exiting the tent, needing it to face the others. Minerva was waiting for him outside, and he could see the worry in her eyes. “Morning, Minervykins.” He said with a small, crooked smile on his face.

 

            The wyvern came up to him and nudged him with her snout, being cautious about the wounds that he had. “I’m fine.” He grunted as climbed onto his mount, as he needed to take her to feed.

 

Gerome loved to fly, he had since his mother first took him up for a ride. He loved to feel the wind on his face and the sun on his skin, loved the way that he felt absolutely free while soaring in the sky. There was also an intimacy about it, as there had to be a crucial trust between rider and mount. He had learned everything he knew from his mother, how to swoop and soar through the air… It made her feel connected to her even after she had died.

 

Minerva managed to hunt and eat rather quickly, as if she knew that Gerome was in a rush to get back to Lucina, and by the time he returned to the camp they were only just beginning to serve breakfast. He was planning just to dash in and out without any sort of interruption, but he quite overestimated the ability of certain Shepherds to pick up on the intricate social cues that would inform the average human (or manakete, or taguel) that someone did not wish to be bothered.

 

“O’ Fierce Dragon King!” Owain called, making Gerome grunt and frown and try to pretend that he didn’t hear.

 

“Knock it off, Owain. He obviously doesn’t want to talk to you!” Gerome heard Severa snap, followed by a sound that was awfully akin to someone being thonked on the back of the head.

 

“Nonsense!” Inigo began, wrapping an arm around Gerome to guide them to the place where the others were sitting. He was growing increasingly irritated and it looked as if Severa was going to hurl her apple at the blonde’s head, but she refrained. “Gerome enjoys our company!”

 

Normally Gerome _tolerated_ their company, but at the moment he was very irritated and had a sleeping princess in his tent who hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before. However, Inigo and Owain had no intentions of letting him leave.

 

Gerome sighed and looked down the table to see the others, a crazy cast of characters that he had grown up with. He could see Noire napping against a reluctant Kjelle, who just wanted to eat her porridge in peace but knew if she woke the girl she might end up with an arrow in a place where she really didn’t want one.

 

Next to them was Yarne, who was picking at the breakfast that his mother had made him—taguel approved. They had all learned quite early in their future that he had an extreme aversion to potatoes, and even the utterance of the word could send him into a tirade about his fears of extinction.

 

Towards the middle of the table, Nah and Morgan were playing a game of chess, though the manakete was wearing an annoyed expression. Next to them sat Cynthia, who was chewing off Laurent’s ear as she professed her love for strawberries and everything that you can make with them. They could be over the top and annoying, but they were the only family that Gerome had once his parents died.

 

“How about we _ask_ Gerome?” Severa said, taking a bite of her toast. It was covered in sweet strawberry preserves, probably picked up from the market as they weren’t part of normal military rations. She _had_ after all inherited a sweet tooth, though she stopped quite short of hoarding sweets like a wyvern hoards gold.

 

“Gerome, would you like to stay and have breakfast with Captain Virginity and Twinkle Toes, or would you rather take your porridge in peace?” Severa took a sip of her drink and gave him an expectant glare, though she also looked as if she wanted out herself.

 

“Captain Virginity?” Owain cried in offense. He slammed one fist down on the table, causing the pieces on Morgan’s chessboard to rattle. The blue haired boy looked up with a frown, though Nah seemed to take more offense to the interruption of their game. “How come he gets a cool name and I’m _Captain Virginity_?” Inigo immediately burst out laughing, but Kjelle seemed rather annoyed.

 

“It’s always about sex with you people.” She said with a heavy sigh, though she was careful not to move too much or risk waking Noire. “We’re in a war. Virgin is nowhere near an insult in my eyes.” She frowned as Noire began drooling on her shirtsleeve, though there was nothing she could do about it.

 

“The only breasts Owain will ever see were those of his wet nurse!” Inigo added, jabbing the other boy in the side. Poor Owain frowned and poked at his eggs, now unable to think of a witty comeback.

 

“I’m sure this is lovely conversation, but I must return to my duties. Minerva is—“

 

“You can say that you’re taking care of Lucina, you know.” Morgan said while taking a sip of his orange juice. He moved a piece on the board forward, which made Nah frown, and Gerome nearly lost the ability to speak. “They would understand.”

 

“How did you know about Lucina?” Gerome asked with an eyebrow raised over the top of his mask, but Morgan merely responded by stuffing his mouth with bread.

 

“I’m her brother. Shouldn’t I know?” Morgan scoffed, making another move on the chessboard. “There’s no reason for you to keep it a secret. Everyone knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

 

Gerome opened his mouth, then closed it again without letting any words out. Morgan obviously picked up on the wyvern rider’s confusion, which generated a chuckle. “Lucina talks about you constantly. And she’s the only one you would consistently voluntarily be around.” Morgan shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, quite content with his observations. “Or maybe it was just me that saw.”

 

“I suppose I shouldn’t have tried to outsmart the tactician.”

 

“Learned it all from the best.” Morgan gave a proud, beaming smile as he thought about his mother—his absolute best friend.

 

“And out of left field comes Squirt, the resident momma’s boy.” Severa said whilst rolling her eyes, a common occurrence for the cynical pain-in-the-ass that she was.

 

“Sounds like Severa woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Inigo snickered, this time causing her to _actually_ chuck her fruit at him.

 

“Severa! My face is a gift from the Gods themselves and you _dare_ deface it? What will the ladies think of me now?”

 

“Save it, Twinkle Toes.” Severa stuck out her tongue, which riled up the other mercenary. Gerome had quite enough of the silliness that was running rampant at the table, though the argument between Severa and Inigo provided just enough distraction for him to slip away with enough food for both Lucina and himself.

 

He returned to his tent to find Lucina still sleeping, or at least pretending to, though now she was sprawled out over the entirety of the bedroll, tangled in his blankets as if they were an extension of himself. Gerome sat the food he had grabbed down and walked over to her bedside. “Lucina…” He cooed, but she didn’t stir.

 

“Lucina…” Gerome called again, this time bending down to press kisses on her bare shoulders. “It’s time to wake up.”

 

“Too… Early.” She grunted, rolling over to throw a pillow on top of her head. However, Gerome was already a step ahead of her, grabbing it before she could shut him out. The princess reached up for it, but instead grabbed his mask and pulled his face down for her to give him a soft morning kiss. Gerome was about to make a comment, but he just grunted and replaced the covering on his face.

 

“I…. brought breakfast.” Gerome stated, watching Lucina slide up to a sit while rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

 

“I see.”

 

“I even brought some strawberries… You like strawberries, yes?”

 

“Not as much as Cynthia, but I enjoy them nonetheless.” Lucina gave him a sleepy smile, and he could feel the corners of his mouth involuntarily turn upwards to match hers, causing knots to form in his stomach.

 

“How are you feeling?” Gerome shifted his weight from foot to foot, but didn’t move any closer to her. He still couldn’t believe that she had chosen him, and that maybe it had all been a dream.

 

“I feel considerably better. I’ll have to fetch Falchion and…”

 

“Lucina.” Gerome swallowed and put his hand down on the table to steady himself, his heart pounding in his chest. “You were maimed within an inch of your life yesterday, and you’re thinking about fighting?”

 

“I am an Exalt. It is my duty to serve the people of Ylisse and help retrieve the Fire Emblem.”

 

“ _Future_ Exalt.” Gerome corrected, which made Lucina furrow her brow and cross her arms over her chest with a pout on her face. “A future Exalt who needs to rest.”

 

“And yourself?” Lucina asked, looking Gerome up and down. “Your bruises haven’t disappeared. They’re still quite prominent.” Gerome looked away, down at the strawberries, his face curled into a pained frown.

 

“I am more worried about you. Your life means more than mine.”

 

“Yours means quite a bit as well.” Lucina swallowed, her eyes also focused on the bowl of berries. “To me.”

 

“If you recall, that was the same thing I said to you before Naga brought us into the past.” Gerome mumbled, taking off his mask so that he could turn it over in his hands.

 

“You wanted me to stay behind.” Lucina said. She placed her hands on her lap and sighed, remembering the nights before their journey. It had been so long ago now, but the fear that she had was still burned into her mind.

 

“Ylisse needed her Exalt.”

 

“Ylisse was no more.” Lucina replied, her eyes looking deep off somewhere else, a look that Gerome had seen on her many times before.

 

“I thought you were crazy when you informed me of your plan.” Gerome said, shaking his head at the memory. His mask was still in his hand, revealing the bruises on his cheekbones from the day before; now fading to a sickly green.

 

“But you gave me your mask.” Lucina looked up at him, her fingers absent-mindedly touching the bridge of her nose where the ornament once sat. “It was your favorite…”

 

“You needed it more than I did.” Gerome took a step towards her, leaving his own mask on the table with the food. “Your eye is a dead giveaway.” Lucina instinctively went to cover it with her hand, as he was right. It was her most defining trait—the mark of the Exalt.

 

_The night that he had given it to her, they had been sitting alone in the room of the Ylissian castle that had once been her mother’s study. There were shelves upon shelves of books on tactics and cultures and languages and customs and anything that she had found interesting while she was alive. Normally Morgan inhabited the room, trying to soak up every remaining bit of their mother in the hopes that his efforts would cause her return._

_“A journey into the past?” Gerome had questioned, leaning against a wall an apt distance away from the newly crowned Exalt. “That’s insane, Lucina.”_

_“Insanity is the only tactic we haven’t tried.” Lucina replied, though her mind was off somewhere else. She ran her fingers over the wood of her mother’s desk, feeling the ridges of the grain and the bumps and dings from it being hit. She had so many fond memories of the room, though most of them had been replaced with nightmares._

_“Now you’re creating tactics?”_

_“Morgan approved.”_

_“Morgan would do anything to get your mother back.” Gerome looked away from Lucina, as his words were harsh even if they were true._

_“Morgan is quite skilled a tactician.” She looked down at her hands, neatly folded on her lap in the most regal of ways. While she didn’t want to admit it, Gerome was correct in Morgan’s intentions, but if there were any chance of saving their present it was a chance worth taking._

_“You’ll need a disguise.”_

_“What for?” Lucina cocked her head in confusion, but Gerome quickly scoffed._

_“You wear the brand of the Exalt. That is a defining trait, and will cause several questions to be brought up.” Gerome looked over towards her, though she could not meet his eyes through the slits on the mask he had worn since the day his parents had died. “You should have thought this out far in advance.”_

_“Then I shall go as my ancestor. Marth the Hero-King.” Saying the name gave the greenhorn Exalt a new surge of confidence, making her sit up tall._

_“I do believe you are of the wrong sex.”_

_“Sex does not make a king.” Her rebuff was curt and sharp, and Gerome immediately shut up about it. After all, with all the padding and armor her figure would virtually disappear anyway._

_“Very well. But you’ll need something else.”_

_“And what would that be?” Lucina watched as Gerome removed the mask from his face, revealing his true visage. It felt like it had been eons since she had seen Gerome without its veneer—since she had seen the severe but gentle features he hid day in and day out._

_“A mask.”_

 

“I almost didn’t recognize you when we finally reunited in this time.” Lucina smiled at the fond memory, so fresh and vivid in her mind. It had been windy and on the crisp side, the Shepherds only in Wyvern Valley by happenstance.

 

She had barely been reunited with her parents and her brother, and many around the camp were still quite wary of her presence with them. There were some that believed that she wasn’t truly the future form infant princess. Even after Chrom’s affirmations of his trust in her, the camp was quite split on the issue. She was cold and lonely, and her own brother couldn’t even remember her.

 

As usual, there were bandits and rapscallions threatening peaceful villagers, and it was the Shepherds’ job to make the land safe again. Even then, Lucina had been dragging her feet on the way to the village. War was an intimate experience, one where you had to trust your partner with your life… and Lucina had no one to confide in.

 

When she saw a wyvern soaring over the horizon, her heart began to race. It was a natural instinct now, a second nature for a lonely heart. She would see her friends in almost anything—the hair of a merchant, a laugh in a village, and every time it made her heart pang with loneliness. It had been years since they were separated, and she didn’t even know if they were _alive_ , let alone nearby. Finding her brother had been a fluke, finding him with no memory had been a tragedy.

 

But this time, Lucina felt, was different. They stopped at the edge of the town to see some villagers conversing with a man with a shock of turquoise hair, and immediately her heart began to pound. They were begging him to help their friends, who had been missing and were suspected to be taken by bandits, from what Lucina could hear.

 

She was nearly ready to run towards the man when she heard the conversation turn into an argument. While Gerome was abrasive, he was never craven. She had given up hope until he turned around, revealing a black mask on his face. They had locked eyes almost immediately, but neither said anything to the other.

 

“That’s a lie if I have ever heard one.” Gerome scoffed, snapping Lucina out of the fog of reminiscence that had clouded her mind.

 

“You are correct. I knew it was you from the moment I stepped into the valley.”

 

“You know me well.”

 

“Not at that moment, no.” Lucina gave a small smile, then pat the open side of the bedroll next to her. “I believe you came back to bring breakfast. I would also enjoy the pleasure of kissing you.”

 

“As you wish, princess.” Lucina opened her mouth to counter, but his mouth was on hers, kissing her softly with one gloved hand on her cheek. The leather was soft and supple against her skin, a contrast to the velvet touch of Gerome’s lips on her own.

 

He was careful not to put any pressure near her wound, which was showing grotesque but pleasant signs of healing. He wanted to stay entwined with her forever, holding her close and kissing every inch of her skin, but soon they would march on into the depths of the Plegian desert. Gerome was needed to help recover the Fire Emblem, and Lucina had received orders that required her position at camp.

 

“I don’t want you to leave me.” Lucina mumbled, though she knew there was no other choice. Still, she entangled herself in him, holding his strong body close to hers.

 

“I would prefer if I didn’t have to.” Gerome said before kissing the top of her head, her hair smelling of flowers and his bed. “But it’s for…”

 

“The good of the Halidom, I know.” She had heard it all before, in fact those very words had come out of her mouth several times, even when house Ylisse was no more. “The Fire Emblem cannot remain in Validar’s hands.” Lucina adjusted her embrace on Gerome, allowing as much of her skin to touch his as humanly possible. She wanted to be entwined with him, to feel his heartbeat and his body the way that he smiled without smiling when he was around her.

 

“I hate staying behind. I want to be out there on the battlefield. How am I supposed to challenge my fate from my bed like some sort of invalid?”

 

“You need to rest, Lucina. If you go out on that field you’ll be injured again, most likely fatally.” Gerome sighed and leaned down to kiss her on the lips, which took her off guard. “I cannot handle losing you.”

 

Lucina remembered how Gerome had taken the passing of his parents, and it wasn’t well. He had cloistered himself up in his room, only coming out to feed Minerva. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, wouldn’t eat or sleep or do anything. He was an empty shell, devoid of the life that had once inhabited his eyes.

 

He took to wearing a mask to keep everyone from seeing how hard he had taken it, though everyone could see right through it—especially Lucina. She could only imagine what would happen if he lost her too.

 

“Who will cover you in battle if I cannot be there?” Lucina asked, tilting her head to the side with a frown.

 

“Severa is quite adept.” Gerome grunted, but his answer gave Lucina at least a little bit of relief.

 

“That is correct. Her swordsmanship is at a level that even I cannot attain.” Lucina was referring to the way that she could slay enemies in one shot, the lethality of her strike both frightening and awe-inspiring.

 

“You both learned how to fight from your parents.”

 

“From my _father_. Morgan was taught by my mother. Of our own accord.” Lucina had little interest in tomes and tactics, having been immediately drawn to the swords her father and uncle Frederick danced around the castle with.

 

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her mother, she did, but she always related more to Chrom. Though now being back in the past, in her parents’ prime when they were just starting to fall in love, she realized that she was a lot more like her mother than she had ever known. The new marks upon her skin were just an extra addition.

 

“Very well then.” Gerome looked down at Lucina, who looked so peaceful in his arms that he didn’t want to leave her. “But I promise you, Lucina, we will return with the Emblem.”

 

“I do not doubt you.” Lucina entwined her fingers with Gerome’s, letting the ring that he had given her touch his flesh. His had had felt lighter since he proposed, but seeing the woman that he had loved for so long wearing it…. It was a sight that he could not get over. “I love you, Gerome. Please come home to me safely.”

 

“And I love you too, Lucina.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it, before getting up to put his armor on. He took his time buckling it on, enough for Lucina to tiptoe out of bed to assist him. He didn’t particularly need her help, he had done it enough times that it was akin to breathing for him, but he didn’t rebuff her as he would have done only days before. He gave her a silent nod of thanks, then slipped his mask back on over his face before leaving her alone again.

 

The pain in Lucina’s abdomen wasn’t gone, but it had subsided enough that she could mostly walk. She was trying to be careful to not push herself, but she needed to get some air.

 

Everything was crashing down around her so quickly, slipping back on to the course of history that she had given up everything to prevent. Both her mother and her brother bore the mark of the Fell dragon, and now she herself was branded. His blood pumped through her veins, poisoning her every thought.

 

In fact, she wondered why she hadn’t been chosen sooner. She was the firstborn child of the Exalt of Ylisse and the true vessel of Grima… Chosen by the legendary sword, Falchion. The Fell dragon chose well. He had both Lucina and Morgan just in case their mother wasn’t available.

 

When Morgan was born Lucina was enamored. He was so tiny, but had a mop of the same blue hair that both she and her father possessed. He was like a little doll that cried a lot, but she loved him from the moment that she saw him. Her little brother.

 

Lucina was on her way to the stream when she ran into her mother. Her hair was done up in her usual style, the braided and twisted ponytail that she had seen her in as early as Lucina could remember. She looked a little more like herself than she had the day before, but there were still knots in the pit of her stomach when their eyes met.

 

Yesterday Lucina had been dying, so no one had mentioned her attempted matricide, the murder of the queen. After all, it was improper to speak ill of the dead. “Lucina.” Her mother called, and she stopped in her tracks with a pang in her chest.

 

“Mother.” Her voice was soft and meek, like she was a child all over again. After all in this time, she was.

 

“Interesting to see you up and about.” Robin said, a slight tone of surprise in her voice. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in bed?”

 

“I would be more comfortable on the battlefield.” Lucina said while biting her lip. Her arms were crossed tightly against her chest, which felt bare without the layers of bindings and armor that she usually had on. “Shouldn’t you be there as well?”

 

“Chrom… Your father asked me to stay. Morgan has trained well, and should be of good use to the army.” Robin gave her daughter a small smile, but Lucina couldn’t help but wonder if it was forced.

 

“I’m surprised that he would leave you alone in the camp with me.”

 

“You’re no danger to anyone, Lucina.” Robin reached out for her daughter’s hand, but she reluctantly pulled back. Lucina didn’t believe she deserved the feeling of her mother’s love.

 

“I hope some day that you can forgive me.” Lucina hung her head in shame, but Robin still pulled her daughter into an embrace.

 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lucina. Tactically it was a smart move.”

 

“I couldn’t complete it. I’m a coward.”

 

“You’re not.” Robin looked her daughter in her eyes, noting the similarities between herself and Lucina. While Robin had the deep brown eyes that were common in Plegia, Lucina carried her father’s Ylissian blues—though they were the same shape as her own. She had never doubted the lineage of the woman in front of her, but watching her just proved their relations even more. “You are one of the bravest people that I know. I am proud to be able to call you my daughter.”

 

“Being proud would be quite foolish. Your death would not only end you, but it would prevent Morgan from even being born.” Lucina’s lower lip quivered at the thought. She would have lost her entire family if she had gone through with her plan, a tragedy that she couldn’t afford—ever.

 

“You shouldn’t be standing up for so long…” Robin commented, looking off into the distance as if she could see something that no one else could. “Let’s go back to my tent and sit.”

 

“As you wish, Mother.” Lucina bit her lip and reluctantly followed her into her parents’ tent. Inside was a table covered in her mother’s notes, a board with miniatures of the entire army, empty bottles of ink, and other bits and pieces that would be considered trash to others.

 

On the other side was a bookshelf filled to the brim with books and tomes and everything else that her mother collected. Lucina recognized some of the volumes from her mother’s study in the future, but others were unknown to her. Next to the bookshelf were practice swords belonging to her father, leaning haphazardly against the canvas wall of the tent. Inside it smelled faintly of rosebuds and sage and the spicy, perfumed incense that her mother liked to burn.

 

Robin dragged a chair from across the tent to the desk, then sat down in her own. “Sit.” She ordered, her voice less regal and queen-like than it had been in Lucina’s future. But, she hadn’t been queen for very long in this time.

 

“Mother.”

 

“Oh Lucina…” Robin reached out and grabbed her daughter’s hand, letting their fingers match up as they pressed them against each other. They had similar hands, delicate with long fingers. Robin’s nails were longer, as she did more work with tomes than with swords and the length wouldn’t inhibit her or cause painful breaks, but otherwise they were nearly the same. Lucina’s ring collided with her mother’s with a small _tink_ , the metals touching together.

 

“To think. Just a year ago I became a mother, and now I have two teenagers running around.” Robin smiled fondly, though Lucina could only feel pain in her chest. _It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

 

“It must be strange. I am not much younger than you in this time.” Robin turned over her daughter’s hand to more clearly inspect the ring that she wore, her face melting into a nostalgic smile.

 

“And Chr—Your father and I didn’t think we would be dealing with marrying our children for a long time.”

 

“Betrothal never crossed your mind?” Lucina chuckled, which made her mother grin.

 

“This isn’t Plegia. I mean, if your father could marry _me_ …”

 

“He loves you very much. Loved you until the end.”

 

“Even though I killed him?” Robin’s smile quickly turned into a frown. She dropped Lucina’s hand and began messing with the pieces on the board, particularly the one that Lucina had identified as representing her mother. Lucina could clearly see the six eyes of Grima branded on her mother’s hand, staring back at her with their cold and unfeeling gaze.

 

“I don’t believe that he would ever blame you.”

 

“That’s very like Chrom.” Robin moved the piece next to the blue haired one that was meant to be her husband, which was positioned near her two children. Lucina was wondering what she was doing, as she wasn’t planning any tactical strategies. Or, maybe she was. The craft had never been Lucina’s strong point.

 

“I suppose it is. He’s very forgiving. There was this time… Morgan and I were children,” Lucina swallowed, “and we had been playing around in a room we weren’t supposed to be in, and we ended up breaking a vase that had been in the family for centuries.” She looked down into her hands and chuckled lightly at the memory. Morgan had started sobbing, as was typical of him, which had alerted their parents to their position.

 

“Morgan and I thought we would be in so much trouble, but he forgave us almost immediately.” Lucina looked up, and Robin could see the twinkle in her eye as she reminisced. “It probably helped that Morgan was inconsolably crying.”

 

“Funny, I’ve heard a lot about Morgan crying.”

 

“He does it well.” Lucina laughed, pushing a chunk of her cobalt colored hair out of her face.

 

“Probably gets it from Chrom.” Robin said, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes as she made the jab against her husband.

 

“Father cries?”

 

“Like a baby. Don’t let him read any sad stories, he’ll be inconsolable.” Robin reclaimed her daughter’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Please don’t feel guilty about the other night. I will always love you no matter what.”

 

Lucina opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it quickly in favor of pulling her mother into a tight hug. “I missed you a lot, Mother.” She said with a slight sniffle, though her mother was able to wipe away her tears.

 

“I know, my dear. And I’m so glad to be able to watch you grow into an amazing young woman.” A few tears formed at the corners of Robin’s eyes, but she blotted them away quickly.

 

“Mother… There is something I need to tell you.” Lucina said, swallowing hard while avoiding eye contact. Her hands shook as she stood up and turned around, her fingers fumbling with the buttons on her blouse.

 

“Lucina, what are you…” But Robin’s voice trailed off just as the blouse sagged down her shoulders and around her waist, revealing Grima’s mark. “When did this appear?”

 

“Yesterday.” Lucina replied. She quickly rebuttoned her shirt and sat back down, watching her mother’s face grow in concern.

 

“I never wanted this for you.” She shook her head, then placed it in her hands. “This isn’t what I wanted for my children.”

 

“Mother…”

 

“I will protect you Lucina, you and your brother. No matter what the cost.” Robin grabbed her daughter in her arms and held her close, and all Lucina could do was savor being near her mother again.


	11. Chapter 11

Back on the battlefield, the hot Plegian sun was beating down on Gerome’s back, the sweltering heat making it hard for everyone to focus. Validar was already trying to awaken Grima, and the only thing standing between the Ylissians and him was the dark queen, Aversa.

 

            Gerome had been at the forefront of the attack, as he was one of the people who could fly the farthest. Severa was more comfortable on Minerva’s back than Lucina was, but she was also the daughter of a renowned Pegasus knight. She was good in battle, that was an objective fact, but they didn’t move together as smoothly as he usually did with Lucina.

 

            The wyvern rider swooped down to slice the enemy swordsman in front of Severa, but before he could swing his axe she had already slayed the man. “Gawds. Watch it, Starshine!” She barked, and Gerome quickly floated back into the air with a grunt. They were both lone wolves, and lone wolves do not quickly form a pack.

 

            From the air Gerome could see all the bloodshed and calamity that was erupting on the battlefield, from arrows being let into the air to enemies being cut down on the ground. It was a sickening sight to see, but the battle was waning. They were winning, without a single fatality on their side.

 

            “I can keep my promise, Lucina.” Gerome mumbled under his breath as he unleashed a final blow to the Grimleal in front of him. Morgan and Chrom were at the forefront of the battle, facing Aversa herself. It was dangerous, but defeating her would be the only way to get to Validar and stop the awakening of Grima.

 

He was floating in the air, watching the confrontation. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but Morgan released a flash of light from one of his hands, followed by Chrom coming at her with Falchion. Before he could land his blow, however, the woman fled the scene. Morgan shot his hand into the air and released a rain of sparks, letting the other Shepherds know that the battle was over.

 

“Want a ride, Severa?” Gerome called down to the girl, who was now polishing her sword.

 

“Yeah, whatever.” She said with a shrug, taking Gerome’s hand to help hoist herself up onto the wyvern’s back. “I’m worried about Lucina.” Severa said quickly, almost as soon as she got situated.

 

“And why is that?” Gerome asked, raising an eyebrow above his mask. He felt it too, especially after the other night, but if Severa knew something wrong that he didn’t…

 

“She’s not the type to relax after an injury.” The girl said with a shrug, peering over the side of their mount to watch the scenery blow by like doll-sized villages. “I was half expecting her to sneak onto the battlefield today.” She shrugged and sighed, knowing her friend all too well.

 

“She was left with her mother.”

 

“Lucina needing a babysitter. That’s rich.”

 

“If she didn’t have one she would have shown up here.” Gerome said with a sigh, but he understood Severa’s point. Lucina had always been the most mature of the children, save for Laurent and Nah, making sure to listen to her parents and obey orders and do everything perfectly. The castle staff never had to worry about her getting into trouble, that honor always went to Morgan.

 

“She would have ran here until she was blue in the face and throwing up in the bushes.” Severa snickered, watching the skyline as they approached the camp. Gerome nodded in agreement, though he was more interested in landing safely than what Severa was saying. She hopped off the wyvern with a strange finesse, then shook her hair out to settle it from the wind. That was another reason she never became a Pegasus knight like her mother; too much wind.

 

Severa watched as Gerome cooed and coddled his wyvern, the only time that a softer side of him ever came out. Though, she thought, Lucina must see something in him to go after him. “Hey, Starshine.” She called, and he turned his head with a frown.

 

“Starshine?”

 

“Yeah. You. You know if you ever hurt Lucina I will singlehandedly make sure you end up with a sword up your asshole, you hear me?” Severa sounded ridiculous, but Gerome knew she was dead serious. Severa was tough as nails and had no problem cutting people down with her powerful strike.

 

“Duly noted. But I assure you your threats will not have to come to fruition.” Gerome sounded grumpy as usual, but Severa knew that he was telling the truth. She was pretty good at picking up on personal clues, especially on the people she had known since infancy.

 

“Go see her. She’s probably worrying. Or trying to steal lemon cakes from my tent.” Severa snickered to herself. Gerome wanted to make a smart aleck comment about how if she didn’t want her sweets taken she should hide them better, but by the time he opened his mouth she was already gone.

 

He sighed and gave Minerva a pat on the back, letting her know it was okay to go perch, before he walked back towards his tent. He assumed that Lucina would still be there, but when he arrived inside he was quite surprised to find that she wasn’t anywhere to be found.

 

Gerome raised an eyebrow, though it wasn’t like he expected her to stay in one spot. Even with her injuries she would want to do something other than lie in bed all day. “Some princess.” He mumbled under his breath before removing his armor, leaving him in his normal attire.

 

He walked over to the small mirror resting in the corner and looked himself over quickly. There were still bruises on his face, though the mask hid them well enough. The cravat he always wore as a nod to his father was slightly askew, but otherwise he looked presentable enough. _She’s probably with the queen_. Gerome thought, as he knew Lucina would probably seek her out. Or avoid her. He just hoped that he wouldn’t walk in on Lucina washing her mother’s blood off of her hands.

 

Gerome’s hand immediately went to his finger, going to spin his mother’s ring around to relieve some of the anxieties that he had, but he quickly remembered that it was on the finger of his new fiancée. He quickly mussed with his hair, then exited the tent. He figured that if Lucina was with her mother, she wouldn’t want his interruption, so Gerome went for the next person he could think of.

 

“Gerome, my friend!” Inigo greeted as Gerome came into his tent, a frown plastered on his face in such a contrast to Inigo’s large grin. The blond was polishing his sword, trying to remove any blood from the blade before it corroded the metal. They were such polar opposites, Inigo and Gerome. One was an introverted and brooding rider of the night and the other a blond and bright and flirty extroverted mercenary. “What brings you here?”

 

“I need… advice. On… Matters.”

 

“Matters?” Inigo asked with a confused head tilt. He had paused his polishing, though the position he had been holding his sword in was utterly indecent. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

 

“Matters… Of…” Gerome scoffed and turned with a swoosh of his cape, ready to storm out before Inigo began laughing hysterically.

 

“Gerome, are you asking me for advice in the bedroom?” Inigo put down his sword and stood up, going to make eye contact with the wyvern rider in his tent. This moment was _gold_ to Inigo, and he was going to milk the situation for all that it was worth.

 

“I believe I’m standing more towards the entrance.” Gerome deadpanned. Inigo rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his shiny hair, which made Gerome groan. _Always with the theatrics._

 

“Gerome, now isn’t the time for your cynicism. You’re asking me for help with the ladies… _the_ lady. Lucina is a princess, you should treat her as such.”

 

“This was obviously a mistake.” Gerome said, his cheeks blushing bright pink behind the mask he wore. He covered his face with his hand, adding another layer of shadow to his mystique, and sighed heavily.

 

“You obviously need assistance if you’re coming to me. You can’t stand me.” Inigo shrugged and grabbed his sword again, as he needed to finish cleaning it before he placed it back in its sheath. “Though you’ll always accompany me to the tavern if I ask.”

 

“Someone has to keep a watchful eye on you.”

 

“You don’t even drink. Or partake in festivities.”

 

“I drink on occasion. Just not as much as you.” Gerome’s comment was in jest, but he wondered if it came off as more of a jab. “As for festivities I have no such reason to partake. Especially if I have to make sure you return home safely.” He shrugged, though Inigo seemed rather confused.

 

“Why insure my safety if you find me irritating?” Inigo was still cleaning his sword, though any traces of blood were long gone. Gerome figured that the other man just needed to do something with this hands, and this was the only thing that he could think of.

 

“I find the persona you’ve put on grating,” Gerome shrugged, “but inside you aren’t just a foppish dandy shifting from bed to bed.” He began messing with his glove, eyes glued to the ground so that they wouldn’t make contact with Inigo’s. “You and I are quite similar in some ways. Plus if I let you die then everyone would have my head.”

 

“Point taken.” Inigo chuckled slightly and put down the sword, now completely done with its care. “Do you still want advice?”

 

“No.” Gerome said, but a short pause hung between them before Gerome blushed to the edges of his mask. “Yes.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

Lucina had just left her mother’s tent when she ran into Noire, who happened to be committing herself to target practice near the bank of the stream. She knew it wasn’t wise to sneak up on the archer, lest she wanted arrows where she once had eyes.

 

The girl was quite adept with a bow, the most gifted archer in the group. Virion had always bugged Gerome about his skills, or lack thereof, but he much preferred soaring in the sky to picking off those in the air. It took a special sort of person to take up the quiver, but someone had to do it, and their someone was Noire.

 

When her quiver was empty of arrows, Lucina applauded, which caused the girl to nearly jump out of her skin. “Hello.” Lucina said, smiling from ear to ear while Noire tried to keep herself from spinning into her wild alter ego.

 

“Hello, Lucina. W…What are you doing here?” She laid down her bow and crossed her arms over her chest, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. She was quite embarrassed, though Lucina found it quite charming. “Shouldn’t… you be in bed?”

 

“It wasn’t agreeing with me. I went to take a stroll by the stream and I saw you.” Lucina shrugged and looked over at the water, where a family of ducks was swimming by. The first thought that popped into her head was whether they would be having duck for dinner soon, but she quickly realized how morbid that was.

 

“Lucina, won’t the others be worried if you just disappear?”

 

“The others can quell their worries. I am fine.” Lucina straightened her back in a attempt to look more regal, shoulders back and head up, but it only made Noire grow more timid.

 

“If my mother didn’t want me to wander, she would hex my legs to fall down every time I tried to take a step.” If someone had never met Tharja, Noire’s stories would be awful hard to believe. But once you met the woman it wasn’t hard to see why Noire was… Noire. “It’s almost time for supper. We should probably head back.”

 

“You go ahead.” Lucina said, looking off into the sunset behind the stream. The air wasn’t getting any cooler, though it was Plegia. The country had been her mother’s homeland, but she could feel no connection to it. “I’ll follow in my own time.”

 

“All right, Lucina…” Noire said before walking off, leaving the princess alone.

 

Lucina sat down by a large, but sparsely leaved tree, and looked off into the distance. Her mother had grown up here, or at least she might have. Even in the future, Robin hadn’t regained her memories of the time before meeting Chrom.

 

After her mother had swept her away from Validar, the history and the trail went blank. Maybe her mother had grown up in Valm, in the radiant beauty of Chon’sin, or in the lovely meadows or Roseanne.

 

Or maybe she made her home in Regna Ferox, though neither Khan had recognized her. Though she had been found in Ylisse, perhaps she had made her home there all along. It was strange to Lucina, not particularly knowing her roots other than being descended from two mad kings on either side of the border.

 

Then, her mind wandered to her brother. He strove to mimic their mother so much that he even inherited her amnesia, inherited the stain of Grima’s blood that they both had to bear.

 

“Interesting finding you out here.” A voice said, which immediately snapped Lucina out of her deep thought, making her turn around. Gerome was standing there, wearing all black as usual, his mask proudly displayed on his face. The façade gave him such a swagger, a confidence in his walk that the unmasked man she had fallen in love with did not possess.

 

Though, Lucina knew the mask’s power. She had felt it herself when she needed to be anyone _but_ herself. “I should say the same for you. Have you been searching for me?”

 

“Silence,” Gerome scoffed, looking back over to the sunset that was now spreading over the horizon, “I wouldn’t stoop to spying. I have a respect for your personal affairs, even if you are injured.”

 

“It’s quite hard to spy on a wyvern. The flapping of Minerva’s wings would give you away.” Lucina said with a small chuckle, and Gerome cracked a smile in response.

 

“I trust your judgment, even if I don’t agree with it. But I have to insist that you come for supper.”

 

“Are you asking me to dine with you?” Lucina smiled a little wider, but Gerome scoffed and blushed and mumbled a string of incoherent curses under his breath, before holding out his hand to help Lucina up.

 

“We have to announce our betrothal sooner rather than later.”

 

“I suppose you are correct.” Lucina stood up, still holding Gerome’s hand. He was cautious with it, as if he could break her (even though he knew that she could rival him in strength) and his movements were slow as he brought it up to his lips, ghosting a small kiss on the back of her hand. “Shall we?”

 

Gerome nodded, and the two walked towards the mess tent, hand in hand. For a moment, Lucina wondered if this was what a normal love was supposed to be like. How people loved when they weren’t royalty or soldiers or in the middle of a war in a time long past. His hand felt good in hers, though callouses touched callouses from sword and axe and battles long forgotten.

 

Their return to the camp was uneventful, though there was quite a clamor coming from the kitchen. “Bear, _again_?” a man’s voice said, though Lucina quickly identified it as coming from her uncle Frederick. She giggled under her breath, as the man’s displeasure for bear meat was known throughout Ylisse, though his voice sounded more exasperated than whiny.

 

The whines were coming from Lissa, who was very displeased with the selection for the night. “Chrom, no one _likes_ bear stew!” the couple heard as they walked closer, the whole thing getting more and more ridiculous as it went on.

 

“Are you sure you want to marry into this family?” Lucina asked Gerome with a giggle, and he responded with a snicker.

 

“A king, two amnesiac tacticians, a pigtailed princess with a distaste for bear, and Sir Twitching Sword Hand… Thankfully my love for you outweighs the irregularity of your family.”

 

“Irregular? Gerome, your mother is one of the most frightening women I have ever met in my life.” Lucina chuckled a bit, but before she could say anything else there was another shout from the tent.

 

“Bear stew? Uncle Chrom, _why_? Sword hand… twitching…” The two heard a small crash, then a shriek from Chrom.

 

“Looks like Owain has found out about the menu…” Lucina shook her head and sighed. She didn’t know what the big deal about bear meat was. She always found it quite tasty, nothing like old boots or whatever some of the others would claim. “More for me, then.” Lucina shot Gerome a grin, and he just shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could start Morgan came rushing by.

 

“Luci! We’re having bear stew for dinner! Isn’t this great?” the boy said, a huge grin on his face. He dashed off soon afterward, leaving Gerome chuckling.

 

“I see it runs in the family.”

 

“There’s no need to comment.”

 

“I don’t suppose you kept any plush bear toys as a child.” Lucina gave him a playful shove, but he hardly moved. He was sturdy and knew his bearings well, even though Lucina was quite strong. She reclasped his hand quickly and walked into the tent, her head held high like a true Exalt.

 

In the scenario she played through in her mind, everyone would rise to welcome her in, making a big scene of her entering with her new fiancé. But, everyone was busy either ranting or savoring the stew, immersed in conversation and dining. Lucina had been born and raised during war, so she knew very well not to expect the theatrics. Still, it was nice to pretend.

 

She and Gerome were still limping slightly from their injuries, but if no one noticed their handholding they wouldn’t notice the bumps in their stride. They found a spot to sit down at, and immediately Severa came crashing down to Lucina’s side nearly out of breath. “Eat up, Gerome.” She said, her face dark and serious. “We’re marching out soon. Validar is going to perform the Awakening.”

 

“I’m coming.” Lucina said, swallowing the spoonful of stew she had in her mouth at the time. It wasn’t ladylike, but she didn’t care in the slightest.

 

“Peace, Lucina. You are remaining at camp. You’re still injured.” Gerome huffed, which made Lucina pout and look to Severa, who shrugged in response.

 

“He’s right.”

 

“I’m fine. I can handle being on the battlefield.” Lucina snapped, her palms beginning to sweat from the emotions brewing inside of her. “My people need me.”

 

“How very noble of you, Luci. And your people will need you even after you get yourself killed by running out there.” Severa crossed her arms over her chest, as she knew there was no way she was going to get through to Lucina. Whenever that girl had her mind set to something, there was no changing it. Unless it was her father’s idea.

 

Lucina scarfed down most of her stew without a word, then walked over to where Chrom was sitting. Lucina didn’t even have to open her mouth before the Exalt gave her a look. “Don’t even ask, Lucina. You’re not going.”

 

“But Father, you need me!”

 

“Need you to rest.” Chrom corrected, causing the young woman to huff as if she were a child.

 

“Was the bear stew a way to placate me for the night?” Lucina asked, her eyes sharp and severely staring at him. Chrom swallowed hard and looked down into his bowl, not wanting to answer the question.

 

“There’s no time to argue, Lucina. We’re marching in half an hour’s time.”

 

“Not without me, you aren’t.” Lucina was angry, so much so that the entire camp could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. For a moment, she was glad that Maribelle wasn’t her mother, because all she would be hearing was how unladylike it is to pout.

 

“It’s not wise, Lucina.”

 

“I could give a wyvern’s arse about wisdom, Father. This is my homeland too. My future. My _family_.” Her eyes began to get teary, and she looked away quickly to shield her emotions. She wished that she had the mask she wore as Marth. She didn’t particularly want to be Lucina right now.

 

“Go and eat. You’re staying at camp.” Chrom’s words were firm and sharp—an order and not a request. Thankfully Gerome and Severa had no comments when she returned to the table. They were too busy pretending to eat their stew to pull out their “I told you so” speeches. It didn’t matter anyway, Lucina wasn’t hungry any longer. She excused herself quickly and made her way back to her tent, nearly out of breath by the time she entered its solace.

 

It was true that the wound had taken a toll on her, but there was no way that she was going to let them face Validar without her. After her years hiding as the Hero-King of legend, she had no trouble disguising herself or masquerading as a different sex. The transition was almost as simple as changing clothes, though her left eye and her cobalt hair were such defining traits.

 

Still, she was worried. If she had Fell blood, would she be as susceptible to Validar’s mind control as her mother had been? Would Morgan? Still, she decided that the benefits outweighed the risks.

 

She silently thanked Naga for having a figure that was easy to conceal through layers of padding and armor. A full chest may look nice in evening gowns and in fashions, but on the battlefield it was a hindrance. Lucina dug through her things until she found clothing that was suitable, then tied her hair back. The only thing giving away her true identity now was her eye, brazenly showing the mark of the Exalt where anyone could see.

 

The mask that Gerome had lent her was of no use now. It was cracked in half and even then, that mask had defined her habitation in this time for a considerable amount of time. It was recognizable, especially to Gerome and to her parents. The only thing she could think of was pulling the hood of her cloak down over her eyes.

 

She looked considerably like her brother now, though Lucina knew she didn’t have a magic bone in her body. Swordplay had always been her strong suit, the only thing that she put her efforts into. At one time, she considered learning the art of the lance, but in her opinion it was more for the mounted classes than for her. However, for her disguise she decided it might be worth another shot.

 

She slipped Falchion into its sheath, hidden by the fabric of the cloak she was wearing. Lucina gave the lance a few careful jabs into the air, hoping to get a feel for the weapon, then headed out of her tent.

 

Sneaking her way to Validar’s palace wouldn’t be easy, but she was determined. The others were already far ahead, and it would take too long to catch up on foot, especially with the fact that her side still ached. The princess was quite concerned with her mobility, but when she entered the stables she was relieved to find a horse remaining.

 

Lucina, being a princess of Ylisse, had learned how to ride a horse at a young age. However, the age at which she began her equestrian pursuits did not grant her any sort of skill in the saddle at all. She was a nervous rider, though she had no fears running into a battlefield full of Risen, and her side sent waves of pain throughout her body as she mounted the horse.

 

Her hands were shaking as she started the horse in a walk. They hit the trail that the troops had marched down, though she wasn’t going much faster than she could walk. Lucina was nervous, even as the horse began moving faster and she was getting closer and closer to the castle.


	13. Chapter 13

The castle was dark and cold and eerie, everyone could feel that there was intense evil being planned inside. There was static in the air and it just felt _wrong_ , like it wasn’t actually a place after all. Gerome was looking dark and apathetic as usual, but inside he was nervous and tense.

 

Before they could even make an attack, the king and queen had been trapped on one side of the damp stone walled room with Validar, protected by an eerie purple glow of his dark magic. The whole scenario had a grim prognosis, one that he was glad that Lucina wasn’t there to witness. He was lost in thought when an enemy came at his flank, but he quickly cut them down with a slice of his axe.

 

Morgan was fighting quite near him, sending waves of fire and jolts of electricity at anyone coming near. It wasn’t hard to see that there were tears streaming down his face, the worry for his mother overtaking him completely. “Showing emotion on the battlefield shows weakness.” Gerome scoffed as he helped the boy onto Minerva’s back.

 

“That’s my _mom_.” Morgan cried, but Gerome just looked away.

 

“And she’ll still be your mother after the battle has been won.”

 

“ _If_ we win.” Morgan corrected, which made Gerome snicker loudly.

 

“Be glad your sister isn’t here to hear you speak that way.” He said, and Morgan frowned and pouted. He was still mad at Lucina, but he knew that Gerome was right about his sister.

 

“Lucina wouldn’t be blubbering all over the battlefield. Get yourself together. Your parents will be safe.” Gerome straightened his back, his hands tightly clasped around the reins. “I will ensure it.”

 

The two were soaring around the room, allowed by the high ceiling in the castle. Morgan had never ridden on the back of a wyvern, nor a Pegasus, nor anything else that flew into the air. It was quite amazing to him, being able to see everyone on the battlefield below. From above it looked like a fireworks display, all flashing lights and bangs and clangs. However, there was one thing that caught Morgan’s eye that was out of place.

 

There was someone on the battlefield wearing Ylissian robes, but the strange thing was that everyone else was accounted for. Morgan thought maybe his math was off, until he counted again. “Gerome…” Morgan said, before they came soaring down so that they could attack a Grimleal that was about to hex Kellam.

 

“What?” Gerome responded with a harsh tone, as he cared more about the battle at hand than Morgan’s childish drivel.

 

“Who’s that over there?” Morgan asked, pointing to the robed figure that was spearing rather clumsily at Grimleal with a lance. The figure was rather petite, and it was quite obvious that whoever it was was more comfortable with a sword than with the lance.

 

“Oh for the love of _Naga_.” Gerome grunted under his breath as the two boys exchanged glances. Neither of them were exactly surprised, but they weren’t _happy_ about it either. “What does she think she’s doing?”

 

“She probably thinks she’s helping.” Morgan said with a sigh and a shake of his head. He knew his sister could be stubborn, like their mother, but he had expected a lot more from her at the moment. “But she’s going to get herself killed!” Morgan took a deep breath, as he knew he had to get it together if his family was going to make it out alive.

 

 He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Minerva was floating only a few feet off of the floor, and while his acrobatics weren’t as good as Chrom or Lucina’s, he was able to make it onto the ground mostly on his feet. Gerome gave the blue-haired boy a nod of understanding, then flew off towards the cloaked Lucina.


	14. Chapter 14

Lucina knew what she was doing was dangerous. Her lancework was sloppy, especially since her options were to fight with her injured side, or switch the already clumsy weapon to her non-dominant side. It was obvious to anyone that looked at her that she was injured, making several of the Grimleal gather around her.

 

            Her parents were separated from her by a purple haze, so thick that she couldn’t even see their shapes—let alone their faces. For all she knew, they were dead and Validar was wearing their heads as pendants around his neck. Another rough parry caused her hands to shake, the pain welling inside of her becoming too much to bear. A sorcerer came near, ready to cast a spell at her, but just as soon as he approached he disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

 

            Lucina looked up to see the purple fog dissipate, revealing her father and mother standing over the lifeless body of Validar. Lucina’s heart began to race, this… this is what she had been waiting for her entire time in the past. “It’s time to change fate…” She whispered under her breath, letting herself finally smile.

 

            However, the smile didn’t last for long. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but something felt _wrong._ The air was thick with static, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as if she had been standing outside right before a lightning storm. The feeling was eerie, and for a moment she was in a trance, only broken when she heard her name being shouted.

 

            “Lucina!” Morgan shouted as he came running towards his sister, nearly knocking her over in a hug. She cringed from the touch, as it was causing another surge of pain in her side, and Morgan quickly backed off. “Sorry. Gods. I forgot.”

 

            “Morgan. Silence.” Lucina said, watching in horror as the dying Validar let out an aftershock, sending sparks straight towards her father. Robin jumped in front of the young king, taking the blunt of the blow to the point where she landed on the floor.

 

            “Mother!” Morgan shouted, dropping his tome to go running towards her. Lucina was powerless to stop him, she was stuck just watching in horror. Her mother looked okay from where Lucina was standing, though she was definitely shaken up. Morgan was running towards the pair when a shock of lightening—the Thoron tome Robin had brought in with them, cracked through the air until it drove through Chrom like an arrow piercing through him.

 

            Everything around Lucina seemed to stop. She didn’t remember moving, but she found herself without her lance and standing by her father, screaming incoherently as tears streamed down her face. Two hands were holding her back, though she was fighting them tooth and nail like a lion in a cage. The world around her was so so loud, causing an echoing, deafening silence to ring through her ears. “Father, No!”

 

            “Lucina.” A voice snapped as her hearing rang back into a normal range as the shock wore off. The voice was coming from whomever was holding her back, but she still fought at until she whipped around and saw that it was Gerome. She stared at him for a second, before crashing into him with tears streaming down her face.

 

            “This can’t be happening! We were supposed to change this! Everything I have done is… _Worthless_.” Lucina was sobbing, and she was in pain and now her father was dead before her at her mother’s hand. Her hands were shaking so bad and she could barely breathe. The panic was setting in, and fast. Before she could even attempt to calm down, however, Validar was standing in front of her.

 

            She turned around slowly, though Gerome tightened the grip on his axe. Lucina would have given anything to be a coward and stay in her fiancé’s arms, but she wasn’t a coward. She was a princ—No. Now she was an Exalt. “Validar.” She said, her tone stately and regal. Her whole body language changed and shifted from sad little girl to noble queen.

 

            “Granddaughter. How nice to finally meet you.” The sorcerer got closer, using one corpse-like finger to lift up her chin. The touch sent pain and pressure vibrating through her skull, making her want to cry. His pointed talon scraped against her fair skin, and he let out a satisfied _hm_ as Lucina attempted to keep her composure.

 

Gerome leapt forward to knock the man from Lucina, but with a snap of Validar’s fingers he was immobilized. The pain had stopped after the digit was removed from her skin, though it left her head spinning. “You inherited your mother’s looks. Your father’s foolishness too I see.”

 

            “My father is no more a fool than you are a trout.” Lucina hissed, staring the man—her grandfather—straight in the eye.

 

            “Then call me a trout, my dear.” He paused, folding his hands in front of him, his fingers laced together in a putrid lattice. “Unfortunately your mother is powerless to resist me.” Validar turned towards Robin, who was on the floor and nearly out of breath.

 

            “Do you see now, daughter? Human bonds are leaves in the wind. They offer you _nothing_.” Lucina opened her mouth to rebut her grandfather’s words, but she was cut off by a familiar voice. Basilio, the West Khan of Regna Ferox was standing behind her, seemingly from the dead.

 

            “Keep fighting, Lucina. Don’t put stock in this destiny hogwash.” Basilio let out a deep, vibrating laugh, which desperately made the princess want to smile. However, her father was still dead in front of her, her mother writhing to try to shirk Validar’s grasp on her psyche. She wondered where her brother was, if Gerome was okay, her mind shattering in eight different directions to try to keep up with everyone that she loved and cared about.

 

            Basilio kept talking, explaining the plan that they had hatched while he was supposed to be dead. After all, dead men tell no tales. Lucina was captivated but still overcome with emotion and pain, choosing to slink to the ground with her hand around her side. Gerome was still frozen by Validar’s power, with neither Henry nor Tharja nearby to reverse the hex that had been placed upon him.

 

            The shock was starting to sink in again, blocking any noise from her head as she sat there, the same words repeating over and over in her head. _Father is dead, father is dead, father is dead_. The pain, both physical and emotional, was getting to be too much. Lucina was just about to close her eyes when Chrom got to his feet, shaky but still alive.

 

            “Father!” Lucina cried out, which made the newly risen king smile.

 

            “My Lucina.”

 

            “How?” Validar gasped, his face curled in an infinite rage. Robin looked up from the ground with a smile, wiggling her fingers in the air to give a cheeky wave to the snake that happened to be her father.

 

            “Robin… spared me. She weakened… her magic.” Chrom gave a smile, even though he staggered and ended on the ground again. He was in pain, but he would live.

 

            “Fools, I have the stones. I have the emblem!” Validar was screeching now, going on about his power and Grima and anything else that he could think of, so lost in his own speech that he didn’t see his own grandson creep up in front of him.

 

            “You’re finished, Validar!” Morgan shouted, before letting out a bolt of magic from his hand. The blast hit the sorcerer and sent him careening into the wall with a whizz and a sickening crack. He writhed on the ground like an insect after being struck, then went still. The boy held his breath, waiting for it to be a trick, but Validar melted away into dust in the wind.

 

            Gerome was released from the hex, which made him come crashing down to the ground next to Lucina. “Erm. Hello.” He said, his face blushing as it was so close to hers.

 

            “Hello.” Lucina said in return, before kissing his lips, soft and pink against her own. For a moment, just a moment, things seemed like they were over.

 

            “We’ve done it, Lucina.” Chrom said, limping over to his children with one arm draped around his wife. “We’ve won.” He was beaming, even though he was hurting. Gerome helped Lucina up and the father and daughter embraced. Their cheerful moods were quickly contagious to Morgan and Robin and even Gerome, but the celebration ended abruptly.

 

            Before them stood a carbon copy of Robin, her eyes glowing red. “You have not _won_. You may have altered the course of history, but not its destination.” She said, her voice unlike anything any of them had ever heard before. It had a slightly similar quality to the queen’s, but it was corrupted and twisted beyond all recognition.

 

            “What? Who are you?” Chrom asked, now angry and fierce. He drew Falchion, and Lucina followed suit, scrambling to her feet despite her pain. Gerome went to reach out for her again—wanted to plead her to back down for fear of losing her, but this was her destiny. This was her challenging her fate.

 

            “I told you. I’m Robin. History tells that you die at her hands… _Our_ hands. Here and now.” A gold shower of sparks came flowing from the anti-Robin’s fingertips, a warning shot to the round that was to be fired any second. “I’m the Robin that murdered you and became the Fell Dragon, Grima.” The grin on the woman’s face was absolutely wicked, almost unnaturally wide for a normal human.

 

            For a moment, Lucina could feel herself entranced with the being in front of her, as if it was a part of her, calling to her. She could hear someone singing her name in her head, a ghostly ‘ _Lucina_ ’ over and over again.

 

            “Another me…?” Robin whispered, covering her mouth with her hands. Overcome with worry and emotion and a surge of defiant power, Lucina went to strike the woman with her sword, but she was thrown back until she hit the wall; her head screeching with pain until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.


	15. Chapter 15

Lucina’s sleep was shallow and turbulent, full of nightmares about Grima. She kept seeing the glow of his six red eyes, smelling the rotten stink of his open maw, feeling his teeth sink into her flesh until she was only inches away from death. There were dreams where she watched her friends die at her hands, dreams where _she_ was the Fell Dragon. She woke up screaming, sitting bolt upright only to find herself in Gerome’s tent, next to him. He held her tight and she held him back, letting him smooth down her hair.

 

            Her head ached, so much so that the dim candlelight made her want to scream. Instead, she buried her face in Gerome’s dark cloak and tried to take as many deep breaths as she could. “Lucina, you’re safe.” Gerome said; his tone harsh but needed. His bluntness was a habit of his concern, and she had to remember that.

 

            “What happened? To father? And my mother?” Lucina looked around, but her motion caused her head to ache, and Gerome took her into his arms again.

 

            “They are alive. They’re at the Table.” Gerome said, but Lucina was refusing to calm down and rest.

 

            “The Table? Why would they be there, unless to perform the Awaken—“

 

            “Yes, Lucina.” Gerome said. He looked down with a frown, and Lucina was finally able to see that he wasn’t wearing his mask. She could fully see the worry in his eyes and the sheer fact that he was letting her see that made her sick to her stomach. It meant that something was _really_ wrong. “They are performing the Awakening.”

 

            “But… We defeated Validar. Grima hasn’t…” Gerome was shaking his head back and forth, though he stayed silent. The words were too painful to get out, especially since so many of them risked everything to come into the past, all to follow Lucina’s crazy plot to challenge their fate. Now everything was for naught, everything was lost.

 

            “My mother…?” Lucina asked, her voice shaky and wary and full of uncertainty about wanting to hear the answer.

 

            “This is going to be righted, Lucina.” Gerome was lying through his teeth. He didn’t know what was going to happen—if anyone was even going to survive the awakening. His own hands were shaking while they held her tight. His parents were out there too, along with several of their friends.

 

            “I need to help them!” Lucina shouted, trying to get out of her spot on the bed. Gerome held her back, and the commotion inside of the tent causing Severa to burst in, her face curled up in a scowl.

 

            “Stay in bed, Lucina.”

 

            “I am your _Exalt_ , Severa.”

 

            “Not in this time… _Princess_.” A wicked and teasing grin was plastered on the girl’s face, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “As your best friend, I volunteered to make sure you don’t get yourself _killed_.”

 

            “They cannot face Grima without me!” Lucina was on her feet now, but her vision doubled as soon as she stood up. She was dizzy and everything was sore from her flight against the wall.

 

            “They can’t face Grima with you, either.” Severa snickered, looking her best friend up and down. “You look like Hell.”

 

            “We came from it, after all.” Gerome commented, his eyes following Lucina as she sat back down on the bed. Severa walked forward and reached out to clasp Lucina’s hand, cold to the touch and calloused.

 

            “Gods, Lucina. You have done so much for our world. Without you, we’d all be _dead_. Basilio wouldn’t be alive, neither would Chrom.” Severa swallowed and gave her friend’s hand a squeeze, as she wasn’t sure what else she could say to convey her feelings.

 

“Without you, the entire existence of this world would disappear.” The girl’s voice was getting shakier—more emotional. She leaned over lightly and pressed a small, light kiss to Lucina’s cheek, which made the princess blush. “Don’t give me the crap about you being worthless, because you know that you’re not.”

 

Lucina took a deep breath and nodded. There was no use arguing with Severa, especially when she was right. The two girls exchanged small smiles, but the sisterhood being created was quickly pushed aside as Morgan ran inside of the tent, out of breath.

 

“LucinamomisgoingtosacrificeherselftokillGrima.” Morgan blurted, his words slurred together into one incoherent blur. Lucina cocked an eyebrow up and crossed her arms over her chest. She had been subject to Morgan for nearly the entirety of her life, and she still couldn’t decipher what he was babbling.

 

“And in Ylissian this time?” Lucina thought she was being funny, but Morgan was _furious_.

 

“Mother. She’s going to kill herself to kill Grima.” Morgan’s lower lip was quivering, and for a moment Lucina felt like they were children again, in the palace when Morgan had accidentally slammed his thumb in a drawer. She wished that times could be so simple again, simple as they were before the war.

 

“What good would that do?” Lucina asked, and Morgan began sniffling.

 

“Naga… Naga said that the Awakening will only activate… Falchion enough to put him back into a slumber.” Morgan paused to take a breath, but it turned into a horrendous snort as his nose had become stuffed from all of the crying. “The only power that would end Grima is his own.”

 

Lucina’s face grew rather pale, and she looked down into her hands. Her fingers traced over the silky rose patterns on the blankets from Gerome’s bed, obviously not picked by him. Gerome would sleep wrapped in burlap potato sacks if it would keep him warm. “And mother… Is the vessel for Grima.”

 

“You’re finally _listening_ , Lucina.” Morgan wiped a tear from his eye, hoping that no one had seen it even though they all had.

 

“Did you run here all the way, Squirt?” Severa asked, her tone sharp, and Morgan couldn’t even think of what to say to her. His _mother_ was planning to sacrifice herself and all Severa could do was give him a stupid nickname?

 

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Lucina ran a hand through her deep blue hair, as pacing wasn’t an option. The whole situation was… complicated. She loved her mother with all of her heart, and it would kill her to watch her die all over again. It would _ruin_ her.

 

But just forcing Grima into a slumber only pushed the issue onto another generation, one that might not be as capable as the Ylissian Shepherds and their children from a time that hopefully will never be.

 

If Lucina had ever put any stock in tactics and strategy she would feel more confident in what she could say to her brother. Her hands were shaking as Morgan stood in front of her, crying. Lucina didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to encourage the loss of their mother… but destroying Grima was more important.

 

“Lucina!” Morgan shouted, he could see the blank expression on her face and jumped to conclusions. “You have _never_ cared about mom! It’s all _Father_ this, _Falchion_ that. For someone who wants to change fate, it seems the only fate you want to change is the one where you have mom and me!” He was screaming so loudly that his voice was going hoarse, the whole situation making Lucina’s heart break all over again.

 

“Morgan.” Gerome said, but Lucina quickly hushed him. It wasn’t Gerome’s place to discipline her brother, but he quickly understood.

 

“You’re going to sit back and _let_ her, aren’t you?” Morgan asked, his tears now completely soaking his face. He used the oversized sleeve of his cloak to wipe them off of his face, as no one would do the task for him. His comfort wasn’t considered important to the others, or at least that’s what he thought.

 

Lucina was biting her lip to try to keep her from saying what she wanted to. She was boiling to the brim with rage, each one of her brother’s accusations stinging worse than the one before. But he kept going, kept talking, kept spilling lies about the stance she was taking. It was too much.

 

“Morgan, you are an absolute _child_.” Lucina spat, standing up even though every muscle in her body was absolutely screaming for her to not. Her index finger was pointing at the boy in an accusatory manner, which only fueled Morgan’s fire.

 

“Oh really? I’m a child for wanting to keep our mother alive?” Morgan spat, going to lunge at Lucina before Severa grabbed him and held him back.

 

“Watch it, Squirt.” She said, though she didn’t sound angry. He was squirming in her arms, but Severa was stronger and a few inches taller. He wasn’t going anywhere.

 

“No. You’re a child because you would sacrifice the fate of the world, everything I have worked for since the day our parents _died_ … for one person.” Lucina crossed her arms over her chest, her breathing getting more and more ragged from the tears she was trying to hold back.

 

“That _one person_ is our _mother_.”

 

“What if it wasn’t mother? What if it was some man from Donnel’s village? Someone you didn’t know? Would you let them sacrifice their life in exchange for the permanent destruction of the Fell Dragon?” Lucina narrowed her eyes at her brother, though a calming hand from Gerome on her shoulder made her posture soften. Morgan was still struggling against Severa’s hold, but making no progress.

 

“That’s different, Lucina.” Morgan snapped, but she shook her head.

 

“It’s not. He has a family. It’s just not us.” Lucina shrugged and took a step forward, her head up, shoulders back. “I thought you were a _tactician_.”

 

Morgan lunged for her again, but this time Severa’s footing was off and the blue haired boy came rushing for Lucina. He wanted to hit her or send spells flying her way or do _something_ that would make her hurt just as much as he was at the moment. The rage was boiling up inside of him, but he absolutely snapped when Lucina spoke again.

 

“But it looks like you’re just a _coward_.” Lucina regretted the words almost as soon as she said them, but Morgan was furious. He sent a bolt of thunder her way, but she was able to dodge and grab Falchion from its place on the floor. She was back on her feet now, her head absolutely spinning, trying her hardest to see where her brother was. “What is _wrong_ with you?” She shouted, but Morgan just laughed.

 

“I _hate_ you, Lucina!” Morgan shouted, but the siblings were interrupted when Robin came in, sans Chrom. Lucina wondered for a moment where her father was, but she figured he was probably resting. He had, however, just been fried near to death.

 

“Morgan! Lucina! Silence!” Robin shouted, making the children drop their weapons. They looked so small to Gerome, as if they were children again. He and Severa exchanged several glances, deciding to leave before they got dragged into the middle of a family matter.

 

It was cool outside, as it was dark, though cool in Plegia was more akin to mild weather in Ylisse or a summer in Regna Ferox. Gerome felt absolutely naked outside, as he hadn’t had a chance to put his mask back on before the intrusions began, and standing there with Severa was getting more and more awkward as the two of them actively tried not to comment on what occurred in front of them.

 

“She’s right, you know.” Severa said, kicking at a rock on the ground. Her red hair was falling in her eyes as she kept her head down to avoid eye contact, a small detail that Gerome greatly thanked her for.

 

“Hm?” The wyvern rider grunted, which caused Severa to look up. Her eyes looked tired and concerned, but still had her normal fire behind them.

 

“Why put Grima to sleep when we could slaughter him?” Severa shrugged and continued kicking at the dirt. Lucina was her best friend, one of the few people in the army that could put up with her, but that wasn’t the only reason for her agreement. “If you put a pot over the spider, it’s still going to be there when you lift it back up later.”

 

“I agree that Morgan is being stubborn.” Gerome said. His entire body was tense, his hands were shoved in his pockets and his jaw was locked in a scowl. He was worried about Lucina’s health, for one thing, and the fighting going on between her and her brother wasn’t going to help her at all.

 

“But… If it were my mom…” Severa got quiet, something that she almost never did, and sighed. “What did we do to deserve to inherit this _rotten_ world?” Gerome wished that he could answer her, but there was nothing that he could say.

 

“I’m going to train before bed. Take care of Lucina for me.” Severa tried her hardest to smile at Gerome, then left without another word. He was left in the dark, only the stars above him, and he began wondering the same thing. What had they done?

 

Gerome was about to go find Minerva for a late night flight when Morgan and Robin came out of his tent, both of them looking emotionally exhausted. “Good night, Gerome.” Robin said, forcing a smile as she guided her son away from where his sister resided.

 

“Sleep well, Milady.” Gerome replied, which gained him a small nod from the queen. He took a deep breath before going back into his own tent, the worry for Lucina drawn all over his face.

 

She was sitting in his bedroll, stripped down to her smallclothes and wrapped up in his blankets even though it was warm enough in the tent to go without. The most striking thing, however, was that she was wearing his mask. It looked strange on her, though not in a bad way. It was oversized for her face and made her look like a caricature drawn at the festivals held in Ylissitol, but he understood why she needed it at the moment.

 

“Gerome…” She said, pulling the large and rose-printed silk around her. It was obvious that she had been crying, even with her face being covered. He came over to her slowly, though every inch of her was covered by blankets.

 

“Lucina…”

 

“I do not… want to discuss it. Please give me that courtesy.” Lucina looked away from him for a second, though she hesitated. Her hands were slow and shaky as she dropped the covers, exposing her bare breasts, and removed the mask from her face. From where he stood, he could see the six eyes on her back, though they looked red and angry on her skin. Still, he tried not to think about it. Lucina wouldn’t fall to Grima so fast.

 

“Of course, my love.” Gerome grabbed her hand and pressed a soft kiss on it, but instead of blushing like she normally would, she pulled him closer to her. Lucina pressed a kiss to Gerome’s lips, which he returned, slow and intimate. He was entranced by her mouth, the way she parted her lips ever so slightly to let his tongue in, the way that she kissed like every one would be their last.

 

Then again, with the times they lived in, that was a fair bet. Gerome was so swept up in her, in her body, that he barely noticed her working the buttons of his shirt, leaving his chest bare and open in the candlelight. “Lucina…” Gerome warned, pulling slightly back even though he wanted so desperately to be with her. She didn’t heed his counsel, instead sliding the fabric down his body to leave him stripped in front of her.

 

Lucina pressed her mouth back against his, kissing even though she was in pain, her hands now working at the closure to Gerome’s trousers. He let out a groan into the kiss, succumbing to her touch. He placed a hand behind her neck and crushed her lips harder against his own, nipping at her lower lip every so often in a way that made her moan.

 

He knew what they were doing was wrong, not because they didn’t love each other, but because Lucina was filled with such raw emotion that the intimacy between them was a desperate ploy for her to feel _something_ other than sadness. Gerome wanted to stop, to pull her close and let her cry it out. But like the queen, Lucina was stubborn, and she would always end up getting what she wanted.

 

Gerome gasped as Lucina’s nimble hand slipped inside his trousers, under the fabric of his smallclothes to grasp at his already-hardening cock. He was slightly embarrassed by how turned on he was, but Lucina didn’t have any qualms.

 

“I love you.” She whispered into his ear, before pressing kisses along his jaw and down his neck, the skin sensitive to her touch. Lucina shoved his trousers to his ankles, and he reflexively kicked them off and onto the ground below. They were bare against each other, Lucina straddled across his groin. She cupped his face as she kissed him, letting her fingers press into the bruises that still painted his cheek.

 

Gerome sucked in a deep breath, let out in a hiss from the sharp pain. Though, he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it. He had felt his cock twitch underneath her, trying harder to get to where it wanted to be. Her kisses were hard and frantic, needing every inch of him near her to keep herself grounded while everything else was slipping away.

 

His fingers tangled deep and rough into her hair, making a small moan escape her lips only to be caught by Gerome’s mouth. Her hips reflexively rolled against his crotch, which only succeeded in him returning her lovely sounds. “Lucina…” He said again, though this time his voice was breathy and soft. She took her left hand, the one that now bore his mother’s ring, and intertwined her fingers with his.

 

“Peace.” She snapped, moving her hips against his again. “Let me have you again before we die.” Lucina was in Exalt mode again, though her signals were so incredibly mixed. On one hand, she was gripping onto Gerome like if she let go he would slip away. On the other, she was also grinding onto him so well that he thought he was just about to cum right then and there.

 

“Yes, milady.” Gerome groaned before pulling her back down against him in a hard, deep kiss. He took her off guard, which allowed him to roll her onto her back beneath him, which made her let out a breathy sigh. While she was pouting about being bested, the position felt better on her sore body.

 

Gerome nipped at her bottom lip, then trailed his mouth down her jaw, then her neck, down and down until Lucina’s hand was on the back of his head, her fingers tangled in his hair to direct his lips just where she wanted them. He admired her aggressiveness and believed that it deserved a reward. He pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs, teasing ever so slowly as his fingers ghosted across her flesh.

 

Lucina’s legs fell open to accommodate him better, hoping it would urge him to hurry up. However, Gerome had no such intentions. His breath was hot against the sensitive skin between her legs, each exhale making her anticipate his mouth even more. Lucina opened her mouth to give an order, but Gerome took her by surprise.

 

He licked from the bottom of her slit up to her clit, which he took into his mouth to suck on. Lucina tried to clamp her legs shut around his head, being taken aback by the pleasure he was bringing onto her, but his strong hands pushed them back apart and down onto the bed. She was impressed by his sudden showing of dominance, but she didn’t have time to think about it because he was plunging his tongue deep inside her entrance.

 

Lucina let out a loud moan, not even trying to keep quiet at this point, and dug her fingers deeper into his hair. Her motions pricked his scalp, but he enjoyed the feeling that it gave him. She tugged harder and he hissed at the sudden sensation, his cock twitching harder beneath him. His tongue flicked up, his mouth covering her clit again as he slid two fingers inside of her.

 

She was dripping wet, making the digits slide in easily. Lucina cried out louder, her hands gripping at the sheets while again, her thighs tried to clamp shut. Gerome raised an eyebrow, using his free hand to pry her back open, though the fingers inside of her were going teasingly slow. Lucina whimpered from the absence of a fast pace, each movement of his fingers making her crave more. “P…Please.” She moaned, which made Gerome come up, her juices wetting his face.

 

“Please?” He was feigning confusion, though he knew full well what she wanted. He picked up the pace just slightly, but was still going slower than she would like. “Tell me, Lucina.”

 

“More. Gods, _more._ ” She said, her fingers nearly tearing the sheets off of the bed as they were holding on so tightly. Gerome quirked a smile before he paused his movements, sliding his fingers out to tease at the entrance of her slit. They moved from bottom to top, slowly as he came over her and crushed her mouth to his in a rough kiss.

 

Lucina’s hand’s flew to the back of his head, returning their position in his hair, right as Gerome plunged his fingers inside of her and began thrusting with great speed and force. The noises coming out of Lucina were loud and plentiful, swallowed by Gerome’s mouth on her own.

 

She was squirming underneath him, her back arching and her hips bucking into his touch. She wanted this, _needed_ this to get her mind off of everything that was crashing down around them, the world that was on the cusp of imploding on itself with everyone still in it.

 

Her noises were so frequent that they were pushing his arousal over the edge. He just wanted to slide his cock into her right then and there, but her pleasure took precedence over his.

 

“Gerome…” She cried, the pleasure building deep inside her so much that she thought she was going to burst. “Gah! Gods!” Lucina began shouting several times over, several decibels louder.

 

The tingling sensation that she had discovered the other night was back, moving from the backs of her teeth throughout her entire face. She took a deep breath, calming down from her orgasm, though Gerome’s fingers were still moving slowly inside of her. The motion allowed for aftershocks to ripple throughout her body, but Gerome soon slipped his fingers out of her to press a kiss to her lips.

 

Lucina sat up slowly as her orgasm faded, some of the soreness from being slammed against the wall returning. “I love you.” She murmured before kissing Gerome again, taking the time to straddle his lap so that his cock was ever so close to her eager slit. Gerome sucked in a deep breath against her kiss—the anticipation was killing him.

 

“Lucina…” Gerome’s hands caressed her breasts as he whispered her name in the shell of her ear, but she quickly cut him off with her mouth again. Her teeth clinked against his as his tongue slid into her mouth, their hearts racing as they touched every part of each other. “May I have you, my love?” He asked, and she nodded.

 

“Gods, yes.” Lucina shifted her hips so that she was hovering above him, her hand on his length to help guide him inside of her. She was nervous, this was only her second time having sex, but she needed Gerome—every part of him. She lowered herself slowly, first only letting the tip slip inside of her. The feeling of being filled was still foreign, and this new position was strange and exciting.

 

Gerome’s hands slid down her back to rest on her hips, helping to guide her down his length. He wanted to be able to let herself set the pace, however, as he didn’t want to hurt her by thrusting into her too quickly. Lucina’s kisses trailed from his lips, to his jaw and then neck as she made it down to his base, completely filled by his cock. She took a second to adjust, but Gerome’s head was already thrown back, her velvet walls clinging around him in a desperate attempt to have all of him.

 

“Gods, you feel so good.” Gerome moaned, being more vocal than she thought she had ever seen him. She rolled her hips slowly, testing the waters before allowing herself to go faster. Gerome’s hands were guiding her, lifting her up and slamming her back down on his cock. Soon she was bouncing in his lap, moaning into the kisses placed on his neck and shoulders.

 

Gerome was always rather quiet, even during sex, though he was hissing and sucking in breaths and groaning against Lucina’s skin. Sweat was slicking their bodies, beading up on their foreheads as their pleasure grew. Lucina kissed away a drop quickly, then moved her mouth to the bruises on his cheek. She ghosted her lips over them, whispering his name as if it were a normal aftereffect of her breaths.

 

Gerome came suddenly, buried to the hilt inside of Lucina, calling her name over and over again. His hot white seed filled her, but neither of them cared at the moment about any consequences that could come of it. Grima was alive and well in this world, and their destruction could come at any moment.

 

Lucina lifted herself off of him, then buried herself in the blankets without a word. Gerome was slower in his movements, letting his feet hit the floor while he faced the wall. He had his head in his hands when he spoke next, his voice low and gritty. “We shouldn’t have…”

 

“There is no should or should not have.” Lucina interrupted, wrapping the blankets tighter around herself even though there was nothing to hide any longer. “There is only us.”

 

“You make things sound so simple, Lucina.” She wanted desperately to kiss him, to assure him that being with all of him was what she wanted. After all, she had agreed to be his wife.

 

“How are you feeling?” He was referring not only to her injuries, but to her emotional state. The fight she had with Morgan, facing the repeated loss of her mother, thinking that her father had been murdered. It was a lot to process all in one evening.

 

Lucina didn’t respond to him, instead she buried herself in the covers and looked away, her fingernails pressing deep half moons into her palms. Her blue hair was splayed out against his pillows, cobalt daggers against their creamy white. The candlelight was burning low now, so shadows were dancing on both of their faces. The silence between them was long and loud, though neither of them were making any attempt to fill it.

 

“I don’t want my mother to die.” Lucina said softly, so much so that her words were almost lost in the chirping of the crickets. Gerome turned from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as Lucina pulled her knees up to her chest before deciding that the position wasn’t comfortable for her aching body.

 

“I know, Lucina.” He was looking down at the sheets now, unable to make eye contact with her.

 

“But I don’t want Grima to live.” She sniffled, though she was trying her hardest to hold it back. She just made splendid love with Gerome, and now she was sniveling about matters that could wait until morning.

 

“You needn’t justify yourself to me, Lucina.” His hands reached for his mask, but before he could replace it on his face, Lucina caught his wrist.

 

“Come to bed.” Her eyes were wide as she pleaded with him, intertwining her fingers with his. He hesitated, looking down at their clasped hands for a moment too long. A tear rolled down the princess’ face, but Gerome gave her hand a loving squeeze. He didn’t say anything as he crawled into bed with her, holding her body tightly against him as if she would disappear if he didn’t.


	16. Chapter 16

Morning always came too early, though the only indicator that it was a new day were the birds chirping furiously outside. Gone were the rays of sunshine pouring through the canvas of the tent to rouse them from their slumber—the sky was much too dark for that.

 

Lucina always took a while to awaken, preferring to roll around in bed and groan and plead for five more minutes of rest. _An Exalt must be well rested_ she would always claim, even when she was nowhere near claiming the throne of Ylisse.

 

            Gerome was typically an early riser, as Minerva needed to feed before anyone in camp went missing. However this morning his bedroll felt especially comfortable, and there was nothing that could rouse him from it. Nothing except for the threat of Grima.

 

Her body was still pressed against Gerome’s, his arms around her, her hands holding onto them. They were twisted up like the fried treats that Severa liked to get at the carnivals when they were younger, two bodies becoming one. His eyes blinked open slowly, calmed by the feeling of Lucina’s chest rising and falling against his.

 

She was warm and soft, yet strong and defined. Every inch of her was muscle developed for better handling of the sword, for easier mobility or acrobatic feats. It was still strange for Gerome to wake up next to her, but it was quickly becoming his favorite part of the day.

 

            “Lucina…” Gerome whispered into her ear, trying to wake her even though he knew she would be as stubborn as always. Her flight against the wall had left purple bruises over different parts of her skin, though the sword wound she had sustained was all but gone thanks to Brady’s skilled healing. “It’s time to wake.”

 

            “It’s time to _sleep_.” Lucina took a pillow from underneath her and placed it over her head in an attempt to lock Gerome out, but he wouldn’t give up so easily.

 

            “You cannot change destiny in your sleep.” He was pleading now, but she still wouldn’t budge. It was quite obvious to Gerome that he was going to have to use more extreme measures to get her out of bed and to breakfast, but he was quite scared of her reaction if he used them.

 

The bedframe creaked beneath him as he stood up, walking around to the other side to pick Lucina up and out of the bed. She wasn’t amused, but let him carry her until he let her down to her feet.

 

            “You’re awful.” She groaned as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. Her body was still unclothed from sleep, so she quickly went to work to find herself clothes to wear. The mark on her back looked strange, raw like it had been sliced into her flesh with a knife. Gerome couldn’t help but wonder if it was causing her pain.

 

            “On the chair.” Gerome directed, and sure enough an outfit of hers was laid out, most likely Severa’s doing. Gerome’s idea of dressing was layering as much black as possible until fully clothed.

 

She wasted no time getting dressed, pulling herself together quicker than she had roused from her slumber. She was fumbling with a clasp on her breastplate when she found Gerome behind her, placing his hands gingerly on top of hers. “Allow me.”

 

            She didn’t protest, the only motion she made was to pull her hair off of her back and onto her shoulder. Once she placed her circlet atop her head, she was ready for her day. Lucina turned to face Gerome, who was putting on his own armor, and flashed him a small and sad smile. He took a few short steps back towards her and pulled her into his embrace.

 

            “Today we may very well die.” Lucina said, looking deep into Gerome’s honey colored eyes, stripped bare without the mask sitting on his nose.

 

            “We may.” Gerome said with a nod before pulling Lucina closer to him. She could feel the cold metal of his armor against her face, his height so much different than her own. “But we may very well see the dea—demise of Grima.” Gerome avoided the word ‘death’ as that would imply that the queen would also perish. He didn’t want to even for a second suggest that that was the only plan that they had.

 

            “My love for you, Gerome, is immense.” Lucina reached her hand out slowly, with a reluctance that Gerome could see from miles away. She cupped his face in her gloved hand, letting her thumb graze over his cheek. He was leaning into her touch, his eyes closed and his mind racing. “Please do not die before me.”

 

            “I should ask the same of you.” The corners of Gerome’s mouth turned down in a frown, though that wasn’t unusual on his face. “You have gotten too close in recent days.”

 

            “Yes, but I am strong now.” Lucina said, straightening her back in an attempt to sell her story. It was true, in some ways. The gash on her stomach was mottled over in bright pink scar tissue, the only thing remaining from her attack.

 

She still had some soreness from her encounter with the Anti-Robin from the night before, but her hand was itching to have the sword returned to it. Gerome opened his mouth to say something, but the pair was interrupted by the Queen entering the tent.

 

            “Lucina. May I have a word with you.” Her hands were shaking as they held on tightly to a stack of what looked like letters.

 

            “Of… Of course, Mother.” Lucina’s voice was shaking as she pulled away from Gerome. She brushed her hands down her front as if her mother had caught her in a much more compromising position, instead of a simple and chaste embrace. She pressed one last kiss to Gerome’s lips before following her mother to a deep area of the woods nearby.

 

            The sky above was a sickly green color, the whistling wind orchestrating the loud claps of thunder ringing over the land. It was too much like the time she had come from. Lucina began having trouble breathing, but she tried to keep her composure in front of her mother.

 

            “My Lucina…” Robin said, her eyes getting watery. Lucina looked at her mother with sad and unblinking eyes, as there was only one way that the conversation could end. “I… I have lied to your father and brother.” The queen swallowed hard, her entire demeanor looking as if she was on the cusp of a complete breakdown.

 

            “They believe that I am going to allow Chrom… Your father… to place Grima into another sleep.” Robin covered her face with a gloved hand, her chest vibrating and heaving underneath the heavy Plegian robes she wore. “But you understand why I cannot allow that.”

 

            “Mother… No…” The color drained from Lucina’s face as she stood there in horror. She was going to lose her mother again, so soon after getting her back. “Gods, no!” Forgoing composure, she flew forward to grab her mother in an embrace, the two shedding the same tears. “Am I… The only one who knows?”

 

            “Sir Frederick. But he is the only other. Please… Keep it that way.” Robin swallowed, pulling away from her daughter to give a shaky smile. She held out the letters that were in her hand, each addressed to a different person, all sealed with the mark from Robin’s ring. “Please… Give these after I am gone.”

 

            “You’re asking too much of me, Mother.”

 

            “I am asking this so that I won’t have to ask too much of you again.” Robin’s tears were flowing freely down her face, a moment of weakness in a woman that was normally so strong. “With Grima dead, you and your brother will never have to bear the burden of a war that should have never been yours to fight, My Lucina.”

 

            “Will it hurt, Mother?” Lucina asked, her gloved hands roaming over the paper of the letters in her grasp.

 

            “I don’t know. But I am prepared for whatever happens.” A silence fell between them, the sound of the whistling wind the only thing around them. Robin stepped forward to give her daughter one last hug, even though it would never be enough.

 

She would be leaving another Lucina to grow up without a mother, and now without a brother. The Lucina in this time would barely be a shadow of herself and the thought made her shake.

 

            “Please take care of your father, Lucina.”

 

            “I will, Mother.” One last tear rolled down the princess’ face before she and her mother parted, the Fell Dragon calling them both to battle.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Grima’s open maw was just as terrifying as Lucina had remembered it. It took every ounce of the strength inside of her to not run away craven, to fight to the end. His breath held the stink of rotten meat, its pungency making the air hard to breathe in.

 

The battle went as usual: jabs and parries here, the sound of clangs and chanted spells there. Blood was flowing everywhere, to the point where Lucina couldn’t keep track of which was the Grimleal’s and which was their own.

 

            They fought bravely, even as reinforcements kept piling in to try to weaken the Shepherds. Still they pressed on, fighting harder as the going got tougher. Morgan and Lucina were standing quite near each other when a bolt of lightening magic flew from Robin’s hand into Grima, weakening him significantly. Lucina began to shake—she knew what was coming, and the look on her Father’s face, on her _brother’s_ face… they had no clue.

 

            Chrom raised the Exalted Falchion over his head, ready to plunge it straight into Grima’s heart. Right before the blade sliced through the Anti-Robin’s flesh, a gust of wind came from the Queen’s hands, sending Chrom back several feet. “I’m sorry.” She said, her eyes sad but strong. “I love you.”

 

Time seemed to flow in slow motion, Chrom couldn’t reach her before she sent another bolt of strong lightening through Grima’s heart, killing the beast. Lucina grabbed Morgan around the waist to hold him back, though he was screaming just as loud as Chrom was. A great flash of light set over them, stinging their eyes and washing out their hearing with a dull roar of extreme silence.

 

The army was now standing in a patch of grass, the only thing left remaining of Robin was her coat in a pile on the ground. The end to the battle was so sudden, so different, that the only way that they could tell that a battle had taken place—that it wasn’t a figment of their imaginations—was the fact that everyone was dirty and disheveled and out of breath.

 

“That’s it.” Lucina said, taking a deep breath as Severa walked up to her. “It’s over.”

 

“You did it.” The other girl replied, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I’m sorry.”

 

Lucina had been trying to hold it in. Her mother was gone, again, this time probably wiped from existence. They didn’t even have a body to bury this time. There was no doubt in her mind that at least her brother would blame her. The thought made her sick to her stomach, because he just didn’t _get it_. Their mother made that sacrifice so that he would never have to carry the burden that she did.

She loved him until the very end.

 

            “There is nothing for you to apologize for.” Lucina was looking down at the ground, kicking at the dirt with her feet. A few pebbles were sticking out of the patch, but not even Sir Frederick was concerned about them at the moment. Severa was going to comment back with some smart comment, but it wasn’t the time.

 

            Chrom was on his knees on the ground, grasping at his wife’s coat while tears poured down his face. Frederick was beside him, trying to comfort him, but no matter how many things he offered, there wasn’t anything that was going to replace the heavy hole in his heart.

 

            “There’s something I need to do, Severa…” Lucina took a deep breath as her friend nodded, acknowledging that the princess had more important duties at the moment. Her walk towards her father was short in distance, but seemed like it took forever. _Funny how time seems to stop when you lose someone you love_. She thought as her hands ruffled through a pocket to find the letter marked ‘Chrom’ in her mother’s spidery writing.

 

            “Father.” He looked up, but there was something so strange about him. He looked so _small_ there before her. He looked a lot like Morgan.

 

            “Lucina. Gods, you’re all right.” He stood up quickly and wrapped his daughter in a hug, though there was still no sign of Morgan anywhere.

 

            “Father… There’s something I need to give to you.” Her voice was shaky, her hands just as unstill. She produced the letter, though she couldn’t meet her father’s eyes. She contemplated staying. She wondered if he needed her there while he read the letter. But for the first time in her life she couldn’t bear to be around her father.

And so she ran.

 

            She ran as far as she could until her lungs burned and her legs gave out. Her knees hit the ground near a stream, though she was dry heaving so hard from running and crying and the deep, aching hole she felt in her chest. _This is what you wanted, Lucina. And now you have it._ For a moment, Lucina wished that she had been the one that disappeared.

 

            Lucina crawled to the edge of the stream and looked down into its waters. In stories, the princess was always able to see her reflection perfectly in puddles or rivers or any pool of liquid. All she could see was a warped glimpse of her face. She dipped her hands into the cool water and splashed it on her face in a desperate attempt to wash off the dirt and blood and the intangible itch of guilt that no amount of scrubbing would remove.

 

            No one had followed her—she wondered if they even noticed that she was gone. After all, she had been the only one to wonder where Morgan was. Or maybe she was just too pigheaded to see him right in front of her.

 

He also held the mark of Grima, the mark that had sentenced their mother to this horrible fate. For a moment, Lucina wondered if the death of Grima had taken him too. She knew it was an irrational fear, as she was still standing, but it was a fear nonetheless.

 

            “It’s not _fair_!” Lucina shouted, before she devolved back into a deep cry.

 

The win would mean that they would march back to Ylissitol as soon as they could. She would be back in the palace and planning a wedding and worrying over whether or not her lovemaking with Gerome the night before had produced a child. She would be doing all of those things without her mother. It seemed so wrong to be celebrating when they should be mourning. Lucina wanted no part of it.

 

“I’ve got to go… I’ve got to go.” She kept mumbling to herself. Lucina wasn’t sure when exactly she stood up, but she was pacing in circles and digging her hands into her hair as if she were to pull it out by the roots.

 

Her vision was going black at the edges as she paced, her head was spinning and she couldn’t breathe without letting out horrible heaved sobs. Lucina fell back to her knees, holding her head. The grass cushioned her fall, but she was near delirious from the intense sadness in her heart that nothing, not even making love with Gerome, could quell.

 

“Milady.” A voice said, a gloved and armored hand entering her field of vision. The voice was familiar, but in her fog she couldn’t place it. However, Lucina took the hand and allowed the man to assist her to her feet. Standing, she was able to tell that the man was her Uncle Frederick, the loyal knight that had served her family since before she was even a thought in her parents’ minds.

 

            Lucina looked up at him and began crying again, even though it was unbecoming of a young princess. Maribelle wasn’t around, she needn’t be proper at the moment.

 

            “I know, Lucina.” Frederick said with a sigh. She could tell that he was upset too. He had been such a dear friend to not only her father, but her mother too. “But she would not want you to weep over her.”

 

            “It doesn’t feel right not to weep.” Lucina replied, though she was doing anything that she could to _not_ look at Frederick. They were the only two people left on the Earth that knew that her mother had planned this. It was a heavy cross to bear.

 

            “I suppose you are correct.” Frederick nodded at the blue-haired princess, then sighed again. From the inside of his armor he produced another letter, written on the same crinkly paper that the other letters from her mother were written on. “She wanted me to give this one to you.” He swallowed, but didn’t give her the time to read it right there.

 

            “We march for Ylissitol in only a few minutes. I suggest finding your fiancé. You are in no condition to walk alone.” Lucina gave him a nod, then pocketed the letter without a word. She would indeed find Gerome, but she didn’t want to return to the palace.


	18. Chapter 18

Gerome was attaching bags to the saddle on Minerva, making sure to secure them so that there wouldn’t be any mishaps in flight that would cause an unfortunate incident. The wyvern was making annoyed chirps and looking over at her rider with sad brown eyes

 

            “I know, Minerva. But the flight will not be very long.” He reached up to pat her head, but she dodged his hand in favor of licking at Gerome’s face. “Yes. She’ll be back soon.” To tell the truth, Gerome was getting worried. Lucina had been gone for over an hour, and while he did not need to track her every move, she hadn’t even alerted him to the fact that she was leaving.

 

            Then again, her mother had just died before her eyes. Gerome remembered how he felt—the emptiness and sadness and sheer pain he had felt when Chrom alerted him to his parents’ death. Even though he was a young child, he knew even before the Exalt came knocking. Minerva had returned from battle, screeching until Gerome left his home to find her. However, there was no sign of his parents anywhere.

 

            The only new thing that Chrom had brought was his father’s bow and an heirloom dagger, one that belonged to House Virion of Roseanne. The last things that Gerome had of his father.

 

            He was getting quite worried, since Morgan had already come back, and if Lucina didn’t return soon, he woud have to go out for her. He was ready to mount Minerva for some scouting when Sir Frederick came walking up with the princess.

 

Lucina’s eyes were red and puffy, and she didn’t say a word as she walked over to Gerome, pulling him into a hug. He kissed the top of her head then bowed to press one to her lips, only getting vague response in return.

 

            “Minerva was worried about you.” Gerome paused. “As was I.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say to her. The last time her parents had perished she gathered everyone into an army to fight. But then again, at that time she had no choice. She was the Exalt and they were in the middle of the biggest war Ylisse had ever seen. Now that peace had fallen upon the land it was a whole different story.

 

            “There is no need.” Lucina said, brushing off his comments offhandedly as she struggled to mount the wyvern. It was second nature to Gerome, but she had very little experience in it. She slipped a few times before sighing and allowing Gerome to help her. The ride ahead of them would be long and irritating if she was going to brush him off.

 

            “I see. Now you have returned safe there is no need to worry.” He mounted Minerva behind her, wrapping each arm around her slight torso to grab ahold of the thick leather straps that allowed for Gerome to keep balance on his mount. “Minerva, to Ylissitol!”

 

            Lucina remained silent, trying to keep herself from breaking down again. She still had yet to read the letter from her mother, leaving it tucked away under her breastplate to be dealt with at a later time.

 

She leaned lightly back into Gerome, needed to feel his touch to make sure things were still real—if she was still real. If she had known the numbness she would feel in her chest knowing that her mother was no more, she never would have let the sacrifice happen.


	19. Chapter 19

The flight to Ylissitol was uneventful. After all, the war was now won. There were no more surprise Risen attacking at any moment, no threats of Grima or the Grimleal skinning them alive. Lucina could barely remember the last time there was peace in her lifetime. In the future that was no longer the future, the war against Grima had raged on for so long that no one could even remember how it started.

 

            But all of that was over now. They were greeted in Ylissitol with open arms, a slew of maids whisking Lucina off of Minerva’s back, out of Gerome’s grasp, to prepare for some banquet that she didn’t even want to attend. _How shallow of them to celebrate when the Queen gave her life to save everyone._

 

They had pulled her inside and stripped her down, leaving her bare and exposed in front of women she hadn’t seen since she was a young child, and that was in another time all together. Lucina instinctively curled her arms around herself to cover the bits that she didn’t want them to see.

 

Scars and wounds and bruises mottled her skin, and for a moment she wondered if the little Lucina in the castle would live the life that she did. Would that little princess be marred by the horrors of war? Or would she be able to wear gowns and dance and live the life that Lucina never got?

 

She wasn’t jealous, not in any sense. Despite the horrors and hardships that she had to go through, there was nothing that she regretted. She had dear friends that had been with her through thick and thin. She had a brother that she loved more than he could ever know. And she had Gerome, the man that she had loved before she even knew she could find the time to love.

 

Still, when she looked in the mirror she could still see the eyes on her back, though they were scabbed over and stinging like they had tried to burn deep into her flesh. However, no roots had taken hold. Grima was no more.

 

The maids helped Lucina into a bath that was full of scented oils and rose petals and soaps that would make even a perfumer dizzy. They scrubbed at every inch of her skin until it was pink and polished, and by the time they were done with her she smelled so much like a rose that the gardener himself would be confused.

 

“I can dress myself.” Lucina said as the women came to her with a gown, but they either didn’t hear her or they ignored her. Because of the utter zeal they had while bathing her, she was convinced that it was the latter rather than the former.

 

The gown they had clothed her in was a delicate shade of Ylissian blue, covered in tulle and crystals and anything else that would make her feel utterly foolish. Yes, she was a princess, but her place was on the battlefield, not at court.

 

“Princess Lucina, it’s time to go out.” The smallest woman said. She was petite and plump and had pin straight strawberry blonde hair. In Lucina’s future, she had been torn apart by Risen. Her son, only a little older than Lucina, had been one of her foot soldiers before he had been skewered through with a lance. Even though she had been in the past for years, this was one of the first times where it felt _wrong_.

 

“Yes of course.” Lucina said, taking one last look in the mirror. Her cobalt hair was pulled into some intricate and braided updo, one that seemed to defy gravity in its entirety. Her circlet sat atop her head as it always did, and her makeup was done in a dramatic fashion. Too dramatic to be practical for any occasion. 


	20. Chapter 20

Downstairs, the palace was in a stir. There was an orchestra playing music to set the mood, people were running around and cheering and celebrating while the smell of a delightful feast wafted through the air.

 

Lucina stood at the top of the stairs for a moment just to breathe it in. She was sure she hadn’t smelled anything so delightful in ages, maybe in her entire life. Still, there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that was just sitting there, reminding her how _wrong_ this all was.

 

            “Lucina!” Gerome called from the base of the stairs. He was dressed up as well, though he looked incredibly uncomfortable in the suit the maids probably forced him into wearing, even if it was all black. His mask still sat upon his face, and immediately she could picture him fighting and hiding it from them in order to keep it. After all, he would need it to keep himself cut off from the niceties of court life.

 

She made her way down the stairs to meet him at the bottom, and for a moment Lucina thought about being swept up into his arms and twirled around, like princesses in the storybooks her Aunt Lissa used to read to her. “Gerome.” Lucina curtsied, though the motion was as foreign to her as swordplay was to him. “You look very handsome tonight.”

 

“Not as handsome as you are beautiful.” He was blushing under his mask, she could tell from miles away just from his body language. “I believe dinner will be starting soon.” Lucina opened her mouth to say something kind or interesting about the way that the castle looked, or about how exciting the celebration was, but the words wouldn’t come out.

 

“How _awful_ it is that Ylisse is turning a blind eye to the horrors of the war.” She was looking off at all of the people, hundreds that she had never seen in either of her lives, all laughing and smiling and dancing and celebrating while her father and her brother and herself were mourning their loss. They didn’t even have a body to bury, no closure from the death that would no doubt ruin them to their core.

 

“I agree.” Gerome said, holding out his arm for Lucina to take, while all the others stopped to look at the newly engaged couple. She hooked her arm around his, pulling her body up tight, her head held high so as to avoid the gaze of the others around her. The last thing she needed was to be pulled into a shallow conversation with the shallow courtiers. “I see something in your eyes, Lucina.”

 

“That would be my brand.” She snapped, trying to make a joke even though it fell short between them. “It’s just that this world is no place for me. There is the Lucina of this time that belongs here. And if this world is going to ignore the death of my beloved mother then I want no part in it either.”

 

Gerome was about to reply when Morgan came up to the pair, dressed to the nines as well. However if it weren’t for his attire, he would be out of place. His eyes were still red and puffed from crying, his hands shaking and his cobalt hair disheveled.

 

“Lucina.” He said, taking a moment to finally address his dear sister. His voice was shaking, though no amount of deep breathing would fix it. “I don’t suppose that you find this whole stupid thing to be as _wrong_ as I do.”

 

“You could not be further from the truth, Morgan.” Lucina reached for her brother’s hand, but he pulled away from her with a grunt. “I want to be here as little as you do.”

 

“It’s wrong. Mom is _dead_ and they’re roasting a pig as if nothing had happened.”

 

“Where is father?” Lucina was looking around, and Morgan rolled his eyes at her. Gerome stayed silent behind his love, as he learned better than to interrupt the siblings when they were discussing their parents.

 

“That is so typical, Lucina. _Father_ this and _Father_ that.” The boy wiped a tear from his eye rather forcefully, making Lucina’s heart hurt. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Father is hurting as much as we are. Probably even more.” She hated being the one that had to remind her brother of things, but it had been her duty for as long as she could remember.

 

“He won’t come out of his quarters. Uncle Frederick has been trying to get him out for hours.”

 

“Maybe that’s enough of a sign that they shouldn’t be having such festivity.”

 

“It wasn’t Frederick’s idea.” Morgan shrugged. Lucina nodded in understanding. She was never going to insinuate that it was, she knew the loyal knight too well to blame him for the perversion going on around them.

 

“Leave it to the nobles who wouldn’t spare themselves for the war effort to be the first to want to throw a party.” She spat on the ground and ground the ball of her foot into it, cursing their stupid, flamboyant names.

 

“Father is convinced that she’s going to come back, Luci.” Morgan looked to the ground, his whole body hunched as if he were in pain. “He’s organizing a search party to head out tomorrow.”

 

“Father was always fond of hope.”

 

“Father is only setting himself up for more heartbreak.” Morgan’s words shot through Lucina’s body like a burst of lightening, so much so that for a moment she had to check if he had a tome in hand. “I can’t sit back and watch him.” Lucina was going to respond, but her brother wouldn’t let her get in a word.

 

“I’m going to go eat some of the _stupid_ pig, since mom had to die for us to get it, anyway.” The anger in his voice was so clear, so scary that Lucina was frozen in place while her brother walked away. She wondered what became of the mark on her brother’s flesh—if it had burned and scabbed over like hers. But, she knew that bringing it up would only end with her getting screamed at.

 

“Gerome.” Lucina said, turning around to grasp both of his hands in hers. “We must go.”

 

“Go?” He tilted his head like a confused dog, looking Lucina up and down to try to find some context clue for what she was saying.

 

“Away. From here. I can’t bear it any longer, Gerome.” She dropped his hands and began looking around, trying desperately to pick out a face in the crowd. “Where’s Brady? And Severa? We should probably fetch Inigo and Owain too…”

 

“Lucina, what are you talking about?”

 

“Let’s elope. And then run far, far away from here. To Valm. Or Regna Ferox. Or even farther away as long as we aren’t in Ylisse any longer.”

 

“Lucina…”

 

“I see Severa. I’ll talk to her. You find Inigo and Brady.” She didn’t say anything else before attempting to run off towards her red haired friend, but Gerome caught her hand and spun her to face him.

 

“This is lunacy.”

 

“Only if you let it be.” Lucina winked at him before running off, and he sighed as he watched her, now dedicated to finding their friends.


	21. Chapter 21

“But what about Chrom?” Severa asked as Lucina pulled her away from the punchbowl, and Lucina couldn’t answer. She had promised her mother that she would take care of her father. She owed it to him to have him as part of her wedding. But now that the war was over she felt less and less like she belonged anywhere.

 

            “I don’t know what will become of father.” Now they were standing in the garden behind the castle, the moonlight shining down on them and the Valmese roses that surrounded them. “But I promise I will stay in touch with you.”

 

            “You better.” Severa snapped, looking off into the darkness beyond the hill that the castle sat on.

 

            “Severa, you are my dearest friend.” Lucina swallowed, taking her friend’s hands to try desperately to prove a point to her. “I would not be able to live without you.”

 

            “Yeah, well,” Severa cracked a smile, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

 

            “And thus the princess and her lady in waiting exchange their gratefulness of each other’s exi—Ow!” Owain was cut off by Severa knocking him upside the head, which made Lucina giggle behind her hand. “Fine! I get it.”

 

            “Thank you for all that you have done for me, fair cousin.” Lucina said with a smile. Owain blushed slightly, but he threw out his arm to whack Severa in the stomach.

 

            “Sorry, Sev. The sword hand wants what the sword hand wants.”

 

            “Why you little _twit_. This is why _you’re_ Captain Virginity!” Severa was going to come back at him, but Lucina was able to break the two apart with a clearing of her throat.

 

            “Owain, if anything happens with my father, please keep me informed.” Lucina smiled at him, though Severa was still groaning, and Owain nodded.

 

“I will send weekly reports from Ylisse, your royal highness.” Owain paused for a second, dropping the theatrics to place a hand on Lucina’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you, Luci.”

 

“And I you.” The trio quickly turned as they heard footsteps and clamor, but their fears were quickly placated as it was just Gerome and Brady, dragging the slightly drunk Inigo behind them.

 

            “I cannot believe that you would dare dragging me away from the _Ladies_.” Inigo pouted, stumbling slightly as the other two boys let him go. “Am I here to be the one that tells embarrassing stories about Gerome?” Both Gerome and Lucina were giving each other exasperated looks, the two having a conversation just with their eyes.

 

            “When Gerome was but a boy of ten, he came upon a—“

 

            “Inigo.” Severa hissed, and the blond boy shut up. He huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest, but kept silent. Brady stepped up in front of them, carrying a staff that none of them had seen before. It was large and ornate, and probably heavy as well. For someone who claimed to be the weakest in the army, Lucina wondered how he could even carry the thing.

 

            “You two picked the one freakin’ priest in all of Ylisse who has never married anyone before, you know that?” Brady said with a frown, though Lucina was chuckling.

 

            “You’re the only one who would do it.”

 

            “Yeah, well. I ain’t about all this lovey dovey malarkey!” Brady sniffled, but soon sighed. He kept dabbing at his eyes, almost as if he were _crying_. “I guess we’re all here today because Lucina and Gerome want to get married. Right now. When there’s food inside.”

 

Severa was getting antsy, as she nearly kicked Brady in the Achilles tendon to get him to get on with it. Inigo was leaning on her uncomfortably, but she was allowing it just because she didn’t want to hear him cry about his face being busted in the dirt.

 

            “We’ve all been through Hell since we were youngsters.” Brady continued, and Lucina swallowed hard. After all that they had been through she was choosing to run away. “But now we’ve got somethina be happy about.” He raised the staff in his hand and closed his eyes, saying a soft and gentle prayer. The orb on the end of the staff began to glow a bright blue, bathing Lucina and Gerome in its light.

 

            “Gerome, you may kiss the bride. Now I’m gonna get me some food before it’s all gone.” Lucina grabbed Gerome quickly and kissed him hard, probably harder and deeper than acceptable at a wedding. They only broke off when Brady turned to leave, but he soon stopped and sighed heavily. “Hey. Don’t forget about lil ol’ me, okay?”

 

            There were tears in his eyes, though he was trying to hide them. Brady was a sensitive soul for someone who looked so frightening, and the couple knew that their friend would miss them both.

 

            “Never, Brady.” Lucina was being sincere, and Gerome gave a grunt as he stared off into the darkness.

 

            “I’ll let the others know when you’re a safe distance away.” Severa said as she hugged her friend tightly against her. She was trying not to shed a tear, as it would ruin the tough as nails façade that Severa had spent years cultivating.

 

            “Thank you, Severa.”

 

            “Minerva, to me!” Gerome called out into the night, and the wyvern quickly descended upon the grass at the call of her master. “It will be a long night, Lucina.” He was already starting to mount Minerva, but Inigo stopped him with a hand to his wrist.

 

            “That was… Beautiful Gerome.” The blond winked at him, and Gerome tried again to mount the flying beast. But, again Inigo pulled him back. “Remember that thing we talked about. With the…” He began pantomiming something crude, which made Gerome blush to the edges of his mask.

 

            “Peace. We must leave at once.” Gerome was serious this time, helping Lucina up with him even though he was reluctant to leave Ylissitol. There was a lot of unfinished business that the princess had, a lot that was left to be answered. However, like the late queen, once Lucina got an idea in her head there was no removing it. If she wanted to leave, then she would leave.

 


	22. Chapter 22

It was nearly dawn when Minerva touched down on ground. Lucina had been nodding off against Gerome on and off all night, but every time he asked if they should stop at a tavern she would tell him to press on. He wasn’t even sure where he was flying to, just that she wanted to get away.

 

            He settled on Valm, in the countryside of Roseanne—away from the bustling capital where his father and mother of this time would be living with the infant Gerome as soon as they returned. Lucina watched as they landed, Gerome leaving Minerva to go off and hunt.

 

            “So this is it?” Lucina asked, twirling around even though she was still in the gown from the night before. She looked so loud of place in the meadow, all dressed up with nowhere to go. “This is where you were born.”

 

            “Yes.” Gerome grunted, looking around at the scenery in front of him. It looked quite familiar, though the sky was much brighter than he had ever seen it during the days of the war. His family owned land here, a convenience that Regna Ferox didn’t provide. Plus, Minerva wouldn’t do well in the cold. “It’ll do for now. Until we can find a place of our own.”

 

            Lucina nodded, as she hadn’t planned on being especially secretive. They weren’t in hiding; she just needed to remove herself from the courtly lifestyle. At the moment, she couldn’t handle it. Chrom was alive and well to rule the Halidom; she was an Exalt no more. “Which one is ours?” She asked, looking at rows upon rows of white and brick houses, each one with richly colored shutters over the windows.

 

            “Come.” Gerome held out his hand, and Lucina gingerly accepted. His heart was racing the entire time it took to walk down the cobblestone path, worried that someone was occupying the house at the moment, or that the locks had changed from the future to the past. However, his fears were unfounded. The door swung open and Gerome took a step inside before turning around to look at Lucina.

 

            They were both tired, emotionally and physically, but she was smiling. He heard once, probably once upon a dream, that the first time a husband and wife enter their new home that she should be carried across the threshold. And while the home was borrowed for the moment, he figured tradition should be honored.

 

Gerome swept Lucina up into his arms and kissed her as he carried her through. She felt soft and lovely in his arms, the only person that had dared to ever break through the mask. He placed her down gently, making sure to let her feet hit the floor before he let go of her.

 

The inside of the house was filled to the brim with the morning sunlight, which Lucina would probably appreciate more if she had slept at all the night before. She wasted no time finding the bedroom, as all she wanted to do was rest, but the ballgown she was wearing was preventing her from doing so.

 

“Gerome!” She called from in front of the standing mirror. “Your assistance is much needed.” While she waited for her new husband, Lucina went to work unpinning the mess that the maids had made of her hair. When she took it down, she was hit with another rush of the violent rose scent.

 

Gerome appeared in the doorway with a frown, the jacket of his suit already off and his shirt unbuttoned all the way down. “Yes?” Lucina only had to gesture, as she was too tired to open her mouth again, and Gerome went to work.

 

The back of the gown was intricately laced and his war-tamed fingers had trouble navigating their wefts. After a few tries, he was able to free his bride from the dress, though neither of them had any interest in consummating the marriage right at that instant. Especially since her skin looked irritated and painful.

 

Gerome was concerned by the evolution of the mark, especially since the edges looked like they were spreading branches of scar tissue and redness deep into her flesh. It looked like the mark was living—like it was trying to drain the last remaining drops that it could from Lucina. After all, as much as she tried to hide it, he knew what it meant.

 

Once free from her tulle and silk confines, Lucina removed the circlet from atop her head and placed it on the beautifully carved wooden vanity table that was in the room. Gerome was halfway undressed behind her, and she made a point to watch him from where she was standing.

 

“Lucina.” Gerome was blushing, she could tell even with his mask on. But her ogling was nowhere near unfounded. Gerome was tall and lean with lovely muscles that were developed from years of axework and training. Despite the wild appearance of his hair, it was soft and lovely and felt nice to touch. “You’re staring.”

 

“I am.” Her lips curled into a wicked smile, not caring one bit that it wasn’t ladylike. They hadn’t needed the law to recognize them as man and wife for them to love each other so desperately, so deeply; the war had done that for them. But now that she could actually call him that, it was a nice bonus to their arrangement. “Come to bed, my love.”

 

Her footsteps towards the bed ( _Gods, a real bed_ ) were soft and cautious, but after the first few she wasted no time diving into the luxurious pillows and blankets, all with the same print from Gerome’s bedroll. It was familiar, yet also strangely alien.

 

The sheets smelled more like roses and freshly starched linen, while Gerome’s were always scented with pine and woods and something mysteriously spicy. Still, she burrowed into the covers and looked up at Gerome, waiting for his response.

 

He came over slowly, joining her under the blankets to pull her into his embrace. “My Lucina.” He whispered before leaving dozens of soft kisses on the tops of her shoulders, each one more loving than the last.

 

“We could make a home in Valm.” Lucina commented as her eyes closed in preparation for sleep. Her words were light and airy and full of the dreams yet to be born, and Gerome couldn’t help but smile.

 

“That would be nice.” He expected Lucina to answer, but she was already asleep against his body, tangled up with him just as much as ever. _Old habits die hard._ Gerome thought as he closed his eyes himself. The war may be over, but its scars would forever live inside of them.

 


	23. Chapter 23

The days in Valm were different than Ylisse, Lucina had quickly found out. Though, she attributed much of that to the newfound peace that had descended on the land. Many parts of the country were rebuilding after the war, and many more were abandoned by the people who had once called them home.

 

            Virion and Cherche had returned soon after Lucina and Gerome had arrived, though he had made no effort to make any contact with them while they were residing so close by. The duke and his wife were well aware of their future son and daughter in law residing in the land they were working so hard to reclaim, but they were trying their hardest to honor Gerome’s wishes.

 

            The sun seemed to shine brighter, the food tasted richer, but Lucina couldn’t help but feel _something_ was still missing. She hadn’t heard from her father or brother in weeks since they had arrived, and her letters to Severa and Inigo and Owain never returned new information. They missed her, that was a given, but Ylisse seemed uneventful.

 

            Gerome had found Lucina sitting in the kitchen, composing another letter and eating from the bowl of strawberries that he had brought in that morning. “What news are you reporting today?” Gerome asked as he leaned against the doorframe. He had an apple in one hand, his axe resting in a loose grip in his other. _Old habits die hard_.

 

            “Not reporting so much as questioning.” Lucina sighed, pushing the bowl away from her to look over to her husband. He was still wearing his silly mask, though he wore it less often around the house—around her, but he had taken to wearing other dark colors in addition to the black. It was a start. “I haven’t heard anything about Father or Morgan. I’m worried that they are cross with me.”

 

            “I’m sure your worries are unfounded, Lucina.” Gerome took a bite of the apple, crisp and green and sour. There hadn’t been produce like this in years. It was a refreshing change. “They are probably just busy. Ylisse has just exited a great war.”

 

            “I suppose you are right…” Still, she folded the paper and capped her bottle of ink. Once the letter was sealed she pushed her chair out and walked over to Gerome, throwing her arms lovingly around his neck.

 

She had to stand on her toes to be able to reach, to be able to kiss him, but she still took him off guard. His axe clattered to the ground with a crash and a bang that would have startled the others in camp, had they been in camp, but Lucina was able to sidestep and avoid injury.

 

            It had been months since they had married—it wasn’t the first time they had made love, but they had been finding new places and new times to fit in the activity, now that their time wasn’t spent marching and fighting and lying in cots in the medical tent. Even after their marriage Gerome was a man of very few words, but when they kissed Lucina could hear anything that she needed to know.

 

            “I love you.” He groaned as he thrust into her while she sat on the desk in their study, his fingertips pressing red marks and half moons on the soft flesh of her rear. He kissed her again and again while she raked her fingers down his back, desperate to keep him near and close to her even though their safety wasn’t in jeopardy.

 

Every breath was a declaration of love, every mark on each other’s skin a reminder of what they had been through. Lips and nails and teeth all grazed flesh, fingers tangled in hair. They cried out for each other even though their bodies were already as close as they could be.

 

            The war had left more scars than just the ones on their flesh. There was still a desperate air of mortality that followed them around like a thick purple cloud, making every moment that they loved each other deeper and more passionate and _needy_.

 

They would end out of breath and exhausted and absolutely _wrecked_ , covered in marks from mouths and nails and anything else that could be used to seal the gaps between them.

 

            But still, there was an unshakeable feeling of loneliness to Valm. Their friends were all scattered across the nearby lands, though many of them chose to stay in Ylisse, and while Lucina made honest attempts to form friendships with the girls in Roseanne, she missed Severa’s wit and Kjelle’s determination… Noire’s sincerity, Cynthia’s flamboyance, and Nah’s rationality.

 

            Lucina was on her way to the market, taking a moment to fix her hair in one of the house’s ornate mirrors when she heard a knock on the door. For a moment, her heart stopped.

 

She unsheathed Falchion, a constant on her person, and took a few ginger steps towards the door. It was probably some old woman, or maybe Virion or Cherche had finally decided that the silence was ludicrous, but in Lucina’s war-addled mind the precaution was necessary.

 

However, when she opened the door she found not an enemy, but a petite Pegasus knight with a flair for the ostentatious. “Duh da da da! It’s Cynthia!” The girl shouted, and Lucina was half expecting flames and rose petals to fly from her hands, even though it was hardly the occasion.

 

“Cynthia? What are you doing here?” Lucina was still standing in the doorway, now biting down on her thumbnail with worry. There were so many thoughts racing through her head that she could barely keep track. Why was Cynthia there? _Is it father? Morgan? Owain? Someone must be hurt or ill or dying…_

 

“I’m on orders from Chrom himself!” The girl flipped her hair so that her pigtails flopped in the wind, though the move had backfired and she merely ended up with a mouthful of hair.

 

Realizing that she was still pointing Falchion directly at Cynthia, Lucina resheathed the sword and took a step back. “If it’s about father… Do come in.”

 

Every possible scenario was running through Lucina’s head as the two girls sat down at the kitchen table. It was taking every ounce of strength inside of her to keep her hands still, to keep her heart from racing. “It’s been a while, Cynthia.”

 

“Yeah! I’ve been training really hard with mom and Owain and stuff.” Cynthia was absolutely beaming, and the smile on her face would be infectious if Lucina hadn’t been so worried.

 

“What news do you bring?” The princess was now cutting straight to the chase, as her worries far outweighed the need for the politeness and niceties of the court.

 

“Right. So. You know… Plegia, right?” Cynthia was looking away from her friend now, tapping her fingers idly on the table. She looked incredibly uncomfortable, like someone was jabbing her with pins and needles and hot irons, but there was nothing there to cause the discomfort. However it began to diffuse into Lucina, making her anxiety levels rise.

 

“Yes. What about Plegia? Is it the Grimleal? Are they attacking Ylisse?”

 

“No! Don’t be silly, Lucina.” Cynthia seemed so calm now, waving the older girl off like the whole thing was stupid and trivial even though they both knew that if Cynthia had been sent here there was certain gravity to the situation. “Well… Validar was King, right?”

 

“Yes?” The confusion was evident all over Lucina’s face, but as Cynthia kept pausing, more cogs were turning in her head.

 

“And Validar is dead…”

 

“Yes, thankfully.”

 

“And your mom was Validar’s daughter…” Now Cynthia was cringing. If she hadn’t been wearing gloves she would be chewing on her nails, as the subject was touchy and the news she was instructed to bear was even worse.

 

“Yes. Now please just tell me!” Lucina was getting cross, her patience and her temper running short while Cynthia spent her time beating around the bush. She didn’t want to be rude to her, but the incessant caution was driving her mad.

 

“You’re the heir to the Plegian throne, Lucina.”

 

“Plegia?” Lucina got up to pace, she supposed it was true but… she had never thought about it before. “But I know nothing of Plegia. I was born in, and dedicated my steel to Ylisse.”

 

“And now you have run away to Valm.” For a moment, Cynthia looked like a completely different person—so much more like her father. Grown up and grave and bound to duty and honor.

 

“I have not _run away_.” Lucina scoffed, even though that was exactly what she did. Even if it was for a good reason. Both of the girls got quiet, and Lucina looked down into her hands to keep from having to make eye contact with the other girl. “How is my father? And Morgan?”

 

“On a wild goose chase looking for your mom,” Cynthia sighed, “we spend every afternoon searching and we find nothing. Well. One time we found this family of foxes and there were little baby kits…”

 

“What?” Lucina was absolutely flabbergasted. How could her father and brother be roped into such _asininity_ as this?

 

“Kits. Baby foxes…”

 

“Not that, Cynthia!” Lucina placed her head in her hands and sighed heavily. This was all so much information to take in, and they had barely just gotten used to living in Valm. Plus, Plegia was… _Plegia_. It was a country that had only caused her homeland despair and grief. Not even her mother could claim nationalism to its arid lands… how could she?

 

“I figured…” Cynthia looked forlorn as she rested her head on the heel of her hand, unsure of what else to say.

 

“Who is taking care of Plegia in my stead?” Lucina’s eyes were still glued to the ground, her stomach churning over and over in knots. She wished she had Severa here to help her. She always gave good advice, even if it was honest to the point of being brutal. However, she didn’t have Severa. She had Cynthia.

 

“No one at the moment. That’s why we came.”

 

“We?” Lucina cocked her head to the side as she was rather confused. “We would insinuate that someone else journeyed here with you.”

 

“Well… Yes. That’s… That’s right, yeah.” Cynthia began blushing, looking off to the side. She was squirming in her seat and cursing herself for giving it away. “Owain wanted to surprise you. But he found Gerome in town instead and…”

 

“Oh, fair cousin…” The princess placed her head back in her hands, as she was now feeling the weight of so much responsibility on her shoulders. She felt so out of place in this world—she was almost jealous of the infant Lucina in the castle, though she now had to grow up without a mother or a brother, had to grow up with a father chasing ghosts.

 

“I should have followed him, because there’s a huge possibility that Gerome will split him in two with his axe just to make him shut up, but I had to come talk to you and…”

 

“Peace, Cynthia.” Lucina finally looked up and met the girl’s brown eyes. She looked so much older than she had before they left their own time. Lucina knew most of it had to do with the passage of time, but there was also something sad and haunting behind her gaze. “How long do I have to decide?”

 

“I don’t think it’s so much a _decide_ as it is a…”

 

“But if I deny my claim to the throne. Morgan could take it.” Lucina was looking very serious, though she had inner conflict about forcing her brother into the position that he could very well not want either.

 

“I mean, yeah… But Lucina…” Cynthia was looking up at her with pleading puppy-dog eyes, but there wasn’t much that Lucina could say.

 

“What will Plegia offer me other than a people that will want my head on a pike?”

 

“It’s… It’s not like that, Lucina. And wouldn’t you want to be closer to your family?” Cynthia was pleading now, but it wasn’t an easy decision in any sense of the word.

 

“I do miss them, Cynthia. But there is no place for us now that the war has ended.” It was a hard realization to make, it was. But as every day passed Lucina wondered more and more if Gerome had been right in the first place—that they shouldn’t have gotten directly involved with their parents.

 

After all, Lucina had started out with that mentality. The mask wasn’t just for show, but to keep her identity a secret so she would cause the least amount of damage in this time.

 

“You’re only saying that because you won’t make one!” Cynthia crossed her arms over her chest and began pouting, but Lucina wasn’t letting up. “It’s _just_ Plegia. And you could make it awesome!”

 

“Plegia is full of Grimleal that curse my mother’s name because she caused Grima’s demise.”

 

“You really don’t know, do you?” The way Cynthia looked at her made _Lucina_ feel small. It was an odd feeling, really. Normally Cynthia was like the little sister Lucina never had, but at the moment she was reflecting Frederick so well that it was frightening. “The Plegians are celebrating. They are finally free. You have the chance to lead them to _greatness_.”

 

“Cynthia…”

 

“Don’t you miss it? What have you done since you got here? Hm?” Both of Cynthia’s hands were pressed on the table and she looked so serious, so determined, and it almost broke Lucina’s heart.

 

“Gerome and I are…”

 

“Lucina. Being married doesn’t mean you have to be _boring_.” Cynthia huffed and slunk back to her hair to resume her pouting. “At least come back to Ylisse.”

 

“I don’t _want_ to go back to Ylisse, Cynthia. That castle is the home to the Lucina from this time. It’s not wise for me to interrupt her upbringing.” While it was a serious point, there were other things that were keeping Lucina from the only home she had known all of her life.

 

The ghost of her mother still floated through that place, her spirit pumping like blood through its veins. There were places that smelled of her incense and books, or rooms where memories were made with her. Then there was the addition of her father and brother, both grieving in the most foolish way possible. Though, she wished that her brother would come see her…

 

“Is Owain informing Gerome?” Lucina asked while tapping her chin, as she had no clue how to explain to him that even though they had just settled into their life in Valm, that they were now expected to rule Plegia.

 

“Maybe. Though there’s probably more of a chance that he’s running around singing the tale of the great Dragon King.” Cynthia began chuckling, which lightened the mood between the two girls slightly. Lucina followed suit, though it was mostly hollow.

 

“At least it is only Owain. If you had brought Inigo, they would end up in a tavern somewhere and they would both return very drunk.” Lucina sighed again and stretched out in her chair, trying to find a way to get comfortable.

 

Yes, she was a princess, and yes she had always been expected to lead. It’s just that she always assumed that her people would be Ylissians. Still, she was more suited to the warrior-king lifestyle, which wasn’t an applicable model during a time of peace.

 

“Laurent offered, but he wanted to bring a whole trunk of books with him.” Cynthia shrugged, looking around to try to find any reference to the time in the tiny cottage of a house.

 

“Please send my father and brother my regards, Cynthia.” Lucina said as she stood up, signaling that yes, it was time for her to go. There was a lot for Lucina and Gerome to discuss, and that discussion couldn’t occur with Cynthia sitting there and commentating on every word spoken.

 

“Aye aye, Chief!” Cynthia’s smile was wider than the open horizon, and her excitement was immense. She hugged her friend tightly before she exited the house, leaving Lucina all alone at the table again.

 

The room grew eerily silent with the absence of the Pegasus knight, making Lucina place her head in her hands. There was so much to think about now, especially when she had just decided that she was finding a place in Valm.

 

Plegia was such a _foreign_ concept to her—the country had caused her homeland so much strife and pain. Their ideals and religion sent her grandfather into war—a war that had started all of the horrors that Lucina’s life had been founded upon.

 

But, if she were the only one that could rule it, she would have to do it. Still, it would be lonely… though it couldn’t be much lonelier than Valm. The only person besides Gerome that Lucina saw on the regular was their maid, a plump and petite woman from Ferox who made a lovely lamb stew. Lucina even thought she liked it a bit more than bear!

 

Her solitude in Roseanne, however, was self-inflicted out of an unshakeable feeling of not belonging. The time felt alien, it felt _wrong_. But Naga had told her straight from the beginning that there was no going back. Her timeline was sealed now. The place that she had known, as hellish as it was, was gone forever and lost to the sands of time.

 

Lucina was deep in thought when she heard the back door open, and for a moment her hand rested on Falchion’s hilt, ready to be drawn at any second. However, it was just Gerome returning from his training. She turned her head to look at him and nearly dropped dead right there in the kitchen. His clothing was spattered with blood, though she couldn’t seem to see a source.

 

“Gerome? Gods, what happened?”

 

“Peace, Lucina.” Gerome sighed as he came into the kitchen. He grabbed a rag from the counter and began to wipe at his face, though all it was doing was smearing the drying blood around. “It’s deer.”

 

“Deer?” She cocked her head to the side and covered her mouth to try to stifle a giggle, but Gerome wasn’t finding it as funny as she was.

 

“I brought Minerva into the woods to feed. She happened to get… Excited.”

 

“An excited wyvern?”

 

“She… thought me to be hungry.” Gerome grunted as Lucina began to laugh, as he didn’t find the situation as funny as she did. Still, he sat down next to her at the table, though his normal frown did not leave his face. “Owain was here.”

 

“You spoke to him?” Lucina didn’t seem surprised, which confused Gerome quite a bit, as the other boy said that he had not visited his cousin before finding the wyvern rider.

 

“He gave me some… news. But if he already spoke to you then…”

 

“He has not. It’s rather rude of him, I suppose.” Lucina sighed again, then leaned on the table with her chin resting on the top of her fist. It was a cute gesture, though not princess-like. Or _queen_ -like either. “Thankfully Cynthia beat him here.”

 

“ _Cynthia_?” Gerome said her name like he had just tasted something bitter, an odd reaction for such a sweet girl. “Cynthia informed you of your obligations to Plegia?”  


“It’s not an obligation yet.” Lucina corrected. She folded her hands in her lap, rough and calloused against the soft white silk of her sundress. “I have not accepted yet. And maybe I will not. You are, after all, affected by this change as well.”

 

“I suppose.”

 

“You would be the king of Plegia.” Lucina took a quick glance up at Gerome, though he was looking away from her. He took a moment to pause, then slowly removed the mask from his face. “That isn’t a minor change in our lives.”

 

“And you would be the reigning queen.”

 

“I don’t _want_ to be their queen.” Lucina’s tone was curt and harsh, and immediately she regretted letting her emotions best her. She rose from her seat and began to pace around the room, Gerome watching and following her steps with his eyes.

 

“You were an Exalt.”

 

“Of Ylisse! I am of Ylisse. I bear the brand of the Exalt, I carry the sword that has been passed down from generation to generation starting from Marth the Hero-King himself. I bear no blood of Plegia.” Gerome wanted to remind her that her mother was Plegian, that Lucina herself carried a tint of the darker skin tone common in the country. But he knew that would just beget snark and make her upset.

 

“I am of Roseanne, but I swore fealty to you and Ylisse after the death of your parents.” Gerome stood as well to meet her in the middle of the room, though she was reluctant to let him close. He was so handsome without the mask—he looked warm and vulnerable and less like he wanted to hide away from her. His hand found hers in a tight grasp, Lucina’s fingers intertwining with his until neither were sure where he ended and she began.

 

“We have just started a life here…”

 

“That we have.” They both nodded, and Lucina wondered if she should say something else. If she should make a decision right then and there. But when Gerome swept her into his arms, his hands around her waist, all thoughts of thrones and bloodlines and country and fealty flew from her mind. She kissed him hard until she nearly tasted blood, throwing herself into the electricity of his touch.

 

“We’ll think about this tomorrow, my love.” His voice was low and husky in the shell of her ear, his breath warm and sultry on her skin. As lonely as Valm could be, there was also a thrill to it—to the anonymity and the passion that flew through the perfumed streets of the countryside. She wanted so desperately to forget—not just about her blood duties but about the hardships and battles and death she had seen in her young life.

 

They kissed hard because they knew when one of them woke up screaming in the middle of the night, it was enough to ground them and bring them back down from the dangers of sleep. They were inseparable, always touching, reminding themselves that this was real, Grima was gone, they were _safe_ for once in their miserable lives and now they could afford to be happy.


	24. Chapter 24

Lucina woke suddenly in the middle of the night, sudden and jarring and frightening. She had heard Gerome crying out, and when she rolled over and blinked the sleep out of her eyes she could see him tossing and turning and _sobbing_. His pillows were damp with tearspots and sweat, his whole body shaking in fear.

 

            “Gerome!” She said, her voice stern and regal and quite like her father’s had been. “Wake up. It is just a dream. Gerome…” Lucina placed a loving hand on his face, cradling it to try to bring him comfort. Whenever this happened, he would try to brush her off. He would never tell her what he had been dreaming about that hurt him so. She figured it was a dream about his parents dying. Or maybe Minerva.

 

            He woke slowly, but didn’t push her away or get out of bed to pace or practice or whatever he did when he thought that she was asleep and didn’t know. “Lucina…” He seemed to be calmed by her presence—he even settled into her arms for the first time since the end of the war. She began to gently stroke his hair as a few stray tears rolled down his cheeks and he leaned into her touch without a pout or a complaint.

 

            However, his free hand reached for the nightstand, fumbling around until he found his mask. Lucina watched as he placed it on his face, blocking her from the pained expression that he bore. Had he not just woken nearly screaming she might protest, but now wasn’t the time. He still allowed her to hold him in her arms—allowed her to stroke his sweat-soaked silvery teal hair until he was calm enough to fall back asleep.

 


	25. Chapter 25

Morning came and still Gerome wore the mask on his face, still he was tangled up with Lucina as if she would disappear if he wasn’t. She wondered what had riled him up so badly in the dream the night before that caused him to act the way he did. However, when he finally awoke he did nothing to answer her questions. “I apologize.” He grumbled as he slid up to a sit, his breathing slow yet unsteady.

 

            “There is no need.” Lucina cupped his face again and ran her thumb over the small area of exposed skin of his cheek. However, the contact only lasted for a second, a fraction of a moment before he pulled away from her.

 

            “There is plenty need. I worried you.” He turned his head to look away, and immediately Lucina’s heart sank. They were married, and yet he still did not understand.

 

            “I love you, Gerome. With all of my heart. And Naga be damned if your pain becomes a burden to me!” She wished that he would remove the mask, she needed to look into his eyes, needed him to understand that he was just as important to her as she was to him. He just grunted in response and went to rise from the bed. Instead, Lucina grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down, making him topple back on top of the covers—on top of her.

 

            “Love is Foolish.” He looked Lucina over, watching the sad and forlorn expression on her face. His hand slid down her body until it rested on top of the thick and ragged scar on her belly. “And yet I am afflicted with it.” She drew in a sharp breath as his fingers ghosted across the sensitive and newly grown flesh, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

 

            Gerome looked especially forlorn, especially since he still felt that her injury had been his fault. “Peace.” She finally stammered, and he withdrew his hand from her skin. “There are no fools in this room.” He pressed a light and lingering kiss to her lips, then one to her temple before chuckling to himself.

 

            Lucina slid herself up to a sit, reclining against the mountains of soft down pillows behind her. “What?” she was questioning him, her head cocked to the side in confusion. He didn’t answer her, but her hands found their way to his face and removed his mask. Underneath it he looked tired—his eyes red and puffy. Whatever he had dreamed must have been truly horrendous, as he was still entirely affected by it.

 

            He quickly looked away from her, but she wasn’t about to let him hide from her again. “Tell me, my love. Tell me what is hurting you?” Her voice was desperate, pleading, as she looped her arms around his neck, bringing him in so close that their foreheads were touching. She kissed him quickly, trying so desperately for him to open up.

 

            “It was only a dream.” He grunted, but he gave her another kiss in exchange. “You are in no danger.” For a moment, Lucina couldn’t breathe. _Of course_. She was cursing herself for being too daft to see what was right in front of her. He had dreamed about losing her.

 

            “And I will do well to stay that way.” Lucina gave him a smile, but his face did not reciprocate.

 

            “Your new position may not afford you that luxury.” Gerome swallowed hard, taking the moment to drink her in. She was strong and had well-defined muscles, but her skin was still soft and warm—despite the scars she carried.

 

Her eyes were so deep and kind, even after all that they had seen, and her hair smelled of roses and peonies and anything else that she thought to throw into her bath. This is the woman that Gerome had gone to Hell and back for, and he never regretted it even for a day.

 

            “Plegia… What a distasteful land.”

 

            “Be careful. Attitudes like that started the First Great War.” Lucina frowned heavily, taking a moment to bite down on her thumbnail before she said anything else. Gerome was right. She couldn’t keep such toxic attitudes about a land that had every right to have ill relations with Ylisse.

 

            “I am not my grandfather,” She sighed, twirling a lock of cobalt hair around her index finger, “but nor am I Emmeryn.”

 

            “Nor Chrom nor Robin nor Morgan. You are Lucina.” Gerome placed another kiss on her forehead, then shifted to recline next to her, both of his hands resting behind his head. It was such a strange position to see him in—he looked relaxed and at ease. Lucina was pretty sure that he had come out of the womb brooding.

 

            “But am I Lucina, Queen of Plegia?” She looked over at him, and he immediately shifted, his body tensing and taking on his normal and stiff demeanor. In turn, she rolled over to play with his hair. He often acted like it was childish or unpleasant, but she knew that he loved it. The strands were soft between her fingers, a sharp contrast to their wild looks, but they were undoubtedly _him_.

 

            “I have seen you be a princess, an Exalt, a _King_.” He had a point. If Lucina could travel from the future to the past, could hold a candle to _Marth_ … Maybe she could do it. “Is there another reason for your reluctance?”

 

            She didn’t want to answer. Of course there was. But if she said it then it would be real. And whilst she wasn’t as in denial as her brother or her father, there was still part of her that didn’t want to succumb and finally give in to the idea that her mother, the _rightful_ queen of Plegia, was dead. Lucina rose from the bed and walked over to her vanity table to pluck her silky dressing gown off of the chair, which she quickly wrapped around herself.

 

            “Lucina?”

 

            “Of course not. No other reason at all.” She swallowed and looked away, her heart racing so quickly that she thought it was going to beat clean out of her chest. However, the look on Gerome’s face—his bare and plain face, with his honey colored eyes and firm stare, told her that he wasn’t buying it. Of course he didn’t. He could read her better than almost anyone else, just short of Morgan and Severa.

 

            “Lucina. Please.” He took a step towards her, but she took another back. Her arms were crossed across her chest and rubbed her hands up and down them.

 

            “She cannot… Cannot be gone.” Lucina’s voice shook as she talked, though she knew she must sound foolish. “There’s still so much she has to do. Gods, I must sound like a fool.”

 

            “You have already stated that there are no fools in this room.” Again, he took another step towards her, his hand outstretched in front of him. This time, she didn’t move away from him. “She may very well still be out there.”

 

            “They have been searching every day since her disappearance, and yet she has not been found.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot and sighed, though she didn’t move while Gerome came forward to engulf her in his arms. The soft moment of intimacy was unexpected, but lovely. She buried her face into his chest, still bare from sleep, and let herself cry.

 

            He knew how much this had been weighing on her—though she had tried to keep it hidden from him. And now seeing her bare her emotions in front of him was intense and open and raw. His hand came to rest on the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair in the way that he knew that she liked. She reveled in his touch, even though she was staining his scarred skin with her tears.

 

            “If that is your only qualm about Plegia…”

 

            “It’s not.” Lucina said softly, pulling her head back to look into Gerome’s eyes. “There are other reasons. Plus the weather. But… I suppose it is my duty.”

 

            “Even if it is duty, you still have a choice.” Now Lucina was leaning into his touch, soothing her straight to her core.

 

            “May we visit Ylissitol before…”

 

            “Minerva may enjoy that.” For a moment, Lucina could swear that she could see him crack a small smile. While neither of them were particularly happy about the move—Valm and their home in Roseanne were quite different than the desolate deserts of Plegia.

 

            “Minerva has good taste.” Lucina was finally able to crack a smile, something that Gerome was grateful for. She gave a small half-laugh, half cry, and he took a second to kiss away her tears. “Are there any affairs that you need to take care of before we depart?”

 

            He knew that it was a leading question. She wanted him to visit the incarnations of his parents in this world. However, he was still wary of the idea. They had been inhabiting the same area for several months now without any contact, but his philosophy of his time in this timeline was to leave as few footprints as he could. He was a stranger here, only there because he had sworn his fealty to Lucina and the Ylissian throne so many years ago.

 

            “Virion and Cherche have enough to deal with, rebuilding Roseanne and raising a new child—they don’t need me to bother them.”

 

            “If that’s what you insist.” Lucina gave him a nod, knowing that he wasn’t going to budge on the issue. However, she was going to see her father at least one time more before taking her seat on the Plegian throne. If she was going to accept the finality and permanence of her mother’s death then she was dead set on counseling her father and brother into the same mindset. “To Ylissitol then.”

 

            “To Ylissitol.” He repeated, his tone softer and quieter than hers. The reality of all of this was setting in and it made him nervous. However, if there was anything he had learned from living through years of war, it was that taking advantage of opportunities was important.

 


	26. Chapter 26

Ylissitol was sunnier and lovelier than Lucina had remembered, even though they had only been gone for a few weeks. The streets were bustling with carts and shops and villagers, enjoying the bountiful harvest that had come after the war’s end.

 

It was so much different to see the city in a time of peace—to see all the smiling faces. It was amazing that they could be so prosperous even though her father was so deep into his depression. She wondered how much it was weighing on him to have to wear a brave face day in and day out.

 

Lucina and Gerome were walking hand in hand by a cart selling large pastries when a hand grasped the princess by the shoulder and swung her around. “You showed here without even sending a letter? Anything? Gawds, Lucina I would have dressed better!” Severa was standing before them, her face in an eternal pout while her bright orange hair fluttered in the wind.

 

“Severa, it’s so good to see you!” Lucina’s lips curled into a smile as she dropped Gerome’s hand to give her friend a hug. Severa’s expression similarly curled into a smirk, embracing Lucina tightly in her arms. “This was short notice, otherwise I would have informed you.”

 

“You better have. What are you doing here?” Severa looked from Lucina, to Gerome, to the pastries, then back to Lucina. She had inherited her father’s love of confects and sweets, and many of them were selling fast. Lucina could see the struggle in her friend’s eyes, while Gerome was simply rolling his behind the confines of his mask.

 

“A visit. Before I… Move on to Plegia.” Lucina pulled a few coins out of her pocket and held them up for the vendor. “Three of the cream-cakes, please.” She gave a small nod, and immediately she could see Severa nearly drooling over the large and puffy desserts, filled with thick and sweet pink cream.

 

“Right. You’re the queen or whatever.” Severa shifted her feet before taking a bite of the dessert, as occupying her mouth would keep her from saying something sharp and curt that would end up getting her in trouble.

 

The weeks away from Lucina while the girl stayed in Valm were hard. But, she had been spending time with her parents (or rather, the people who had only recently become her parents) as well as assisting Chrom and Morgan. After all, she was still a soldier of Ylisse.

 

“I will be as of sundown on Wednesday.” Lucina said with a sigh. Gerome, following Severa’s bright idea, began nibbling on his cake.

 

“So you’re here to see Blue and Squirt before you become a scary Plegi—?” A large amount of the pink cream adhered itself to Gerome’s nose and parts of his mask, causing Severa to burst out into a fit of laughter.

 

“Gerome the mysterious, Gerome the dragon lord, Gerome the _pink_.” She was cracking herself up, and Lucina could only hold her giggles in for so long before she joined the other girl in their mirth.

 

            Gerome opened his mouth to say something, but he ended up closing it and grunting instead, his cheeks just about as pink as the cream on his nose. He used a rough hand to wipe away the goop, leaving a greasy and sweet streak on the supple leather of his gloves.

 

            “Yes. But I was also looking forward to seeing you.” Lucina gave a warm smile as she placed her hands on Severa’s shoulders. “I know you are of Ylissian blood—that you have patriotism for our beautiful Ylisse… But Severa, I do need a most loyal knight.”

 

            “You’re asking me to be your kingsguard?” Severa began playing with one of her ponytails, running her hands up and down the shiny orange hair. It was a big duty—an honor. But at the same time she also couldn’t help but be scared. Her parents had been taking care of the baby Severa back in the castle, and it had been getting… strange to say the least. But at the same time she enjoyed being around them.

 

            “You are my dearest friend, Severa. It would mean very much to me to have you beside me.” Lucina looked back over at Gerome, who was still towering there with almost no expression, though he was deep in thought. What about she could not discern, but he had a tender hand on her shoulder, just to remind her that he was with her every step of the way.

 

            “If you’re going to get all sentimental on me… I guess I’m gonna have to come with you.” Lucina held out her hand, and Severa clasped it tightly. “Just don’t make me eat bear.”

 

            “I make no promises.” Lucina’s lips curled into a small and furtive smile, making both her husband and best friend groan. “But now that I have seen my Severa, it seems that it’s time to… finally visit father and Morgan.” She swallowed hard, but Gerome placed a small kiss on the top of her head.

 

            “They will be glad to see you, Lucina.” Gerome added, and Severa nodded in agreement. “Let’s go.”

 

            “I’m going to let you two go. I need to get to shopping if I’m gonna be living in Plegia.” She gave the pair a wink and a hug before walking off, returning to being just another face in the crowd of Ylissian shoppers.


	27. Chapter 27

From there, the pair walked towards the castle. The building was large and beautiful and made of ornate stone with gargoyles and statues and religious scenes carved into it. It was so familiar to Lucina, yet so different. Still, as they made it through the gates Lucina made sure to look over at the little area where all of her friends used to play.

 

There was a large and shady tree that happened to be easy to climb, unless you were Morgan. He had fallen from its branches when he was quite young and broke his wrist. Lucina chuckled slightly, remembering how she thought that he had been faking his tears until she saw the direction that it was bending in. Lucina thought she was going to be in so much trouble. After all, she had failed to take care of her younger brother.

 

And now after all the time travel hocus pocus, Lucina _still_ couldn’t protect him. Their trip to the past had hurt him—had wiped his memory clean. It had let _Grima_ into this world. For a moment, Lucina wondered if the Fell Dragon had been the reason for Morgan’s amnesia. She was probably just worrying, but on the other hand…

 

Gerome noticed how deep in thought she was, especially since she had stopped on the path leaving him to trip over her and she _still_ didn’t notice. However, he too recognized the area where they played. He remembered the days where they played soldiers and taught each other how to swordfight and use an axe or a lance, though their weapons were usually composed of sticks. Still, it was a fond memory.

 

Both Lucina and Gerome stood there for a few minutes before they heard someone clearing their throat rather loudly. Lucina nearly jumped out of her skin as the sound had given her such a fright, but it had just been Morgan.

 

The blue haired boy stood on the path for a moment, unmoving and unblinking. He was still wearing their mother’s tactician coat, though it still bore the six eyes of Grima. The clothes that he wore underneath the robe were more detailed—more grown up. He looked as if he had aged several years even though it had only been several months, but she was so glad to see him.

 

Their eyes were locked, but broke when Morgan came barreling forward to hug Lucina tightly. “I missed you.” He said as he hugged his older sister, and she nodded slightly as well. She _had_ missed him, but the news that she had gotten from Ylisse had made her sick.

 

“I have missed you as well. I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?” Lucina cocked her head to the side and he shrugged.

 

“No. Well. I was just about to go out and look for mom.” Morgan said it so casually that Lucina had almost believed him—believed that she was still out there. It wouldn’t be fair to start a fight with him, but the idea that their mother could be alive at all after the defeat of Grima was ludicrous. “Father would be very happy if you helped!”

 

“Morgan…” Lucina began, but she was cut off with a grunt from Gerome. He looked as if he really wanted to say something, though whether it was positive or negative she didn’t know. Morgan stood there shifting awkwardly while he waited for _someone_ to speak. However, the two remained silent.

 

“I know. But. I can _feel_ her, Lucina.” He placed a hand over his chest, right where the mark of Grima had rested, and she nearly gasped. On the back of Morgan’s right hand was the brand of the Exalt. It was a blessing from Naga herself.

 

“Your brand…” Lucina said, her hand over her mouth. She was feeling a mix of emotions. She was proud and scared and joyful as well. But she was also curious as to what had happened to the mark that he bore before this—if it had shared a similar fate with her own.

 

It seemed like Morgan had already sensed her question in her eyes, and he pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal a raised and gnarly looking scar. It looked like there were veins and vines of tissue emanating from it, like it was some kind of parasite on his skin. “No. It doesn’t hurt. Not anymore.” It took her a moment to remember that Morgan had never found out about her own mark.

 

“And yet you still feel Mother?” Yes, Morgan was closer to her than she had ever been, but still she was a fruit of Robin’s womb. Lucina touched her own chest, though her mark did not reside there. She hadn’t felt _anything_ from their mother, and maybe Morgan was just losing it, or maybe their mother just preferred Morgan to her. Either way, it wasn’t a good outcome.

 

“I hear her sometimes.” Morgan said with a shrug, his blue hair falling in his face. He severely needed a haircut, but Morgan had always been stubborn. “She tells me that she’s okay, and that she’ll be back soon.”

 

“Are you sure it’s her, Morgan?”

 

“Grima is _dead_ , Lucina. It can only be mom.” He was frowning, though Lucina couldn’t blame him. She wanted their mother back just as much as he did, but still she was skeptical. Morgan paused for a second, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lucina?”

 

“Yes, Morgan?” She looked confused—she didn’t know what question would be coming for her.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” Morgan looked hurt, his eyes were beginning to get watery and the sight nearly broke her heart. There was no excuse. She didn’t even invite him to her wedding.

 

“I just… I needed to leave Ylisse.” Lucina said, and to try to calm her before she got too emotional, Gerome gave her hand a light squeeze. “I hated how we were celebrating when Mother was _dead_.”

 

“But you could have told me. Or father.” He paused, biting down on his thumbnail while looking down at the ground. “Father didn’t take it well.”

 

“Father has his own Lucina.” She swallowed, and although Gerome had no part in the conversation he desperately wanted to say something to defend her. It would only make him look selfish, like he had wanted Lucina all to himself.

 

“Lucina is being taken care of by nursemaids and by me.” He sighed heavily and looked back over at his sister, their blue eyes locking on each other’s. “Father only leaves his room to look for mother.”

 

“Gods… Morgan…” She didn’t know. He had been ruined after the final battle with Grima, but she hadn’t done anything to console him. She had been selfish and ran away and started a new life away from it all.

 

“You left us.”

 

“I needed to.” The princess took a step forward towards her brother, but he made no effort to close the gap. “Please, you need to understand.”

 

“I do understand. But you could have waited.” _No, I couldn’t._ She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and stab Falchion into the climbing tree, to behave like the child she never was. Still, Morgan just watched, before turning away and sighing. “Are you going to come?”

 

Lucina looked to Gerome, and Gerome looked to Morgan. “Yes.” She finally said, pulling Falchion out from its sheath. “Let’s look for mother.”

 


	28. Chapter 28

Lucina vaguely recognized the field that they were standing in. If she recalled correctly, it was the place that she had landed after her travels from the future. This was the place that time had opened up and spat her out, separating her from her friends. She had been lonely and scared and masked, pretending to be Marth just so that she could be anyone but Lucina.

 

            She had learned much later on that Laurent had been sent two years before her, leaving him stranded and alone without even a hope of finding anyone. Lucina felt incredibly guilty, as she had asked everyone to accompany her. She could only imagine the Hells they went through while separated.

 

            The ground was damp, as if it had recently rained, but she didn’t remember seeing any on their travels over. The sun was shining high overhead, leading to more confusion about the grass. Gerome watched as Morgan and Lucina stood and waited. They looked so alike, something that he had never really noticed before because their personalities were so different.

 

            Chrom came riding up soon after, with Frederick following him on his own horse. “Father!” Lucina exclaimed, walking towards him as he dismounted. A smile grew on his face, though his eyes looked tired.

 

In fact, he looked like he had aged several years. There were a few strands of gray thrown in his cobalt hair, a few lines on his face. No one could blame him, though. He had lost his wife, then his daughter all in a matter of hours. A huge stone of guilt sunk deep down in Lucina’s stomach as he embraced her, though she still let tears run down her face.

 

“Lucina. I’m glad to see you.” He pulled back to look into her eyes, blue like his own, though she carried the brand of the Exalt in her left. Chrom then turned to Gerome and held out a hand. He clasped it and they shook, though neither said much. The looks in their eyes communicated enough information between them.

 

“Father, I can hear her.” Morgan said, though his eyes looked empty. It was rather unsettling for Lucina. The last time that she had seen him like that was back in their own time, when they had been told of their parents’ deaths.

 

She wished that she was in on the voices. She longed to hear her mother, to know that she was still there. But still, Lucina carried the empty and hollow feeling in her chest. Her mother wasn’t out there. She was gone, swallowed by fate and lost to time.

 

“If you can hear her, then we search.” Chrom climbed back on his horse and turned to Frederick, who had the same pained expression that Lucina carried. They both thought this was a wild goose chase that only added to the king’s pain. Instead of being able to move on from his loss, he was being consumed by it. It wasn’t healthy, and for a moment Lucina just wanted to scream.

 

Lissa rode up from the rear, Owain trailing behind her. Both wore large frowns, as if they had been fighting on the way, but neither said a word about it. They both gave Lucina and Gerome hugs, but there was still some degree of hurt that they carried. Running away hadn’t been smart, she knew that, but it was what was _right_ for _her_.

 

She and Gerome mounted Minerva, determined to at least play along for the moment. “He looks so sad, Gerome.” Lucina muttered as they ascended into the air, and Gerome could only nod.

 

“Grief will consume even the strongest.” Lucina had gotten more comfortable riding on Minerva, after all of the afternoon flights that Gerome had taken her on above the Valmese countryside. It wasn’t her favorite by any means, but now she could tolerate it.

 

The princess looked over, thinking about her husband’s words carefully. It was true. She had watched so many people that she cared about lose faith after their parents had perished. It had taken a strong leader to get them fighting again, and while Lucina had once been that figure, she didn’t know if it would work on her father.

 

“Gerome?” Lucina called, after her scanning of the ground had caused her to spot an anomaly against the green of the grass. They were up high, so she could have just been seeing things, but still she had this feeling deep down in her chest. _Maybe this is what Morgan feels._ “There.”

 

“Hold on.” He instructed, even though he thought she was getting too wrapped up into the hunt. However, as they got closer and closer to the ground it was clear that Lucina hadn’t been lost to the madness. There was a woman lying in the grass, stark naked and asleep. Her silver hair was splayed out over the vegetation, looking like a blanket of Feroxi ice.

 

“Father!” Lucina called, though she wasn’t sure if he could even hear her. She didn’t want to wake her mother, but she still needed to get the others’ attention. “Morgan! Aunt Lissa, _someone_.”

 

Tears were streaming down her face and she grabbed Gerome into a hug, needing him here to make sure that it was really real. She could feel him, feel the way his chest rose and fell under her arms and the way that his armor bit into her cheeks. It wasn’t a dream. Her mother was alive.

 

Morgan came running up, nearly out of breath, with the others behind him. “I told you.” He said to Lucina with his tongue out, needed to tease her even though it should be a happy occasion for them all. Chrom and Lissa dismounted from their horses and ran over, looking at each other with slight and sneaky grins on their faces. They both shared a nod, then leaned over the sleeping Robin.

 

“Chrom, we have to do something…” Lissa said, her voice loud enough that Robin’s eyes began to crack open.

 

“What do you propose we do?”

 

“I… I dunno…” Robin began to sit up, and Lucina looked to her brother. Both were trying their absolute hardest not to run over and embrace her. Especially since she was naked.

 

“I see you’re awake now.” Chrom was grinning from ear to ear, trying not to cry himself.

 

“Hey there…” Lissa had a hand on her brother’s back, trying to support him through this. This was the first time that he had smiled in months, and it was such a nice sight to see.

 

“There are better places to take a nap than on the ground you know.” Now Chrom couldn’t hold it back. He was crying as he pulled Robin up to a stand, though she was still rather confused. Lissa wrapped a cloak around her—her cloak, and took a step back. “We did it, Robin.”

 

“We did.” She cracked a smile though tears were running down her face, and she embraced her husband in a tight hug. Lucina and Morgan followed suit, joining in the hugging and crying.

 

“Mother… I’m so glad to see you.” Lucina said, and Robin smiled wide. She pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head and wiped away a tear rolling down Lucina’s cheek.

 

“I’m glad to see you too.”

 

“Mom!” Morgan was crying harder than everyone, but Morgan was a known crier. After the tears between the family died down, Frederick walked over to give the newly revived queen a nod.

 

“Milady.”

 

“Thank you, Frederick.” She said, but nothing else. It was understood between them, and as a man of few words there was no need to elaborate. Robin then walked over to Gerome, making sure to give him a hug too. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

 

“I will always strive to make Lucina happy.” He said, blushing slightly. They had avoided the in-laws subject for months, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Still, the return of the queen was a joyous day. He hadn’t seen Lucina smile so wide in months. It was a nice change.

 

Lucina was back near Chrom, her head bowed towards the ground as she sighed heavily. “I’m sorry I left you, Father. It was selfish.” However, Chrom didn’t scold or fuss. He sighed in return and hugged his daughter close.

 

“I was selfish too, Lucina.”

 

“But your selfishness found mother.” Lucina felt guilty. She had run away and had nothing to show for it except for a marriage. Her quick nuptials and quicker disappearance had led to rumors that she had been with child, but they were false. The only reason for her leaving was to get away, and it made her feel bad even though she knew it shouldn’t.

 

“You deserved to try to find happiness, Lucina.”

 

“But I should have stuck with my family. My duties.” Lucina got down on one knee with her head bowed, the knot in her stomach still growing. “Forgive me, Father.”

 

“There is nothing to forgive.” He said, grabbing her hand to pull her up to a stand. “You are my daughter. You are also an adult. I fear that I have never been able to see the world… That is something I never wanted for you and Morgan.” Lucina looked at him and nodded.

 

She enjoyed living in Valm. The air in Roseanne was always perfumed and the people always smiled even as they worked to rebuild after the war. Lucina didn’t even know if she was still needed in Plegia now that her mother was back. Again she was filled with an overwhelming feeling of being _obsolete_.

 

Ylisse had reminded her too much of her mother, but now… she was back. Still, there was a certain problem with the whole arrangement. There was an infant Lucina in the castle, making the older one additional and almost unneeded. That was half of the reason that she went to Valm in the first place. It was a new start for her and Gerome. A chance to live their lives away from the scars of war.

 

Gerome could see something was clearly wrong with Lucina. Her shoulders were slumped and her smile had faded to a frown. He came over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and then another to her temple. “What is on your mind?”

 

Lucina turned around to face him, wondering for a minute if she should take his mask to cover the sadness on her own face. “Are you not glad that your mother has been found?” He was fairly confused by her behavior, but he wanted so desperately to support her through the pain.

 

“No… I am very glad. I just wonder…” She sighed heavily and grasped one of his hands, leather on leather with their fingers intertwined. “I wonder if there is any place for me.” Gerome’s face fell quickly, even she could tell through the mask.

 

“Peace.” Gerome’s voice was low and husky and intense. “Lucina you will always have a place.”

 

“We have completed our mission, Gerome. And yet we are unable to go home.” The girl shrugged and looked over as her father and mother embraced, her heart racing in her chest. “There is already a Lucina in this time. And a Gerome.”

 

“And that Lucina and that Gerome are not you nor I. They will not mature in a time of war, they will not be the same as we were.” He cupped her face in his hand and ran his gloved thumb over her cheekbone, trying to reassure her. Soon, a small smile appeared on her face, her feelings of doubt slowly fading from her heart.

 

“I suppose you are correct.” Lucina leaned into Gerome’s touch, slightly closing her eyes to savor the feeling of his hand upon her skin. She only snapped out of it when she heard Morgan calling her over, sounding impatient.

 

“Luci! Come _on_.” He was waving her over and she gave Gerome a small shrug before joining her brother to stand with her father and mother. Both Morgan and Lucina went to embrace Robin, though the younger of the two was crying hysterically.

 

“Morgan, wipe those tears away.” Robin cooed at her son, though he was having trouble complying. While Lucina was used to her brother’s hysterics, the Chrom and Robin from this time hadn’t even had their son yet. They were in for a rude awakening.

 

“I’m just… Glad you’re back, Mom.” Morgan sniffled a few more times, but he managed to rub at his face with the back of his hand. He very rarely wore gloves, as he preferred to feel the paper and the magic within the tomes he used, without any sort of boundary. It was strange to Lucina, as she had always worn them. But then again, she was all about swordwork.

 

“Mother?” Lucina said, her eyes looking deep into Robin’s. There was some dirt on the woman’s face, but she looked just as fresh and beautiful as ever.

 

“Yes, Lucina?” She was leaning against Chrom now, but it was to be expected.

 

“I’m so glad that you came back to us.” Lucina looked down, though it took her a second to notice. The mark that her mother had carried ever since she could remember was gone. The skin on the back of her hand was smooth and unmarked, nothing like the ragged scars that both she and her brother carried.

 

“I’m very glad that I returned as well.” She kissed her daughter on the top of her head, her smile infecting all of them. Even Gerome was smiling, though he was standing several feet back and observing.

 

He didn’t want to intrude. After all, his mantra had always been to leave as few footprints as possible, even if that was nearly impossible with Lucina around. If it weren’t for her, none of them would be standing there alive to tell the tale. Lucina was a hero, even if she was having doubts about herself.

 

“Are you still gonna take Plegia, Lucina?” Morgan asked, and Lucina couldn’t help but elbow her younger brother in the ribs to try to shut him up. Now wasn’t the time to bring up politics, but now it was too late. Robin raised an eyebrow and Chrom just sighed.

 

“Plegia?” Robin’s face was still showing confusion, but Chrom was quickly trying to explain.

 

“Lucina was offered to take the Plegian throne in your absence, my love.” Chrom brushed a lock of his cobalt (and peppered gray) hair out of his eyes while his wife laughed before him. The three of them were quite confused as to what was so funny, but none of them said anything.

 

“Lucina, please tell me you threw a _fit_.” Robin chuckled, and Lucina was able to crack a smile at her mother.

 

“I told them, I am of Ylisse. But I am the next in line for the throne, since the Lucina of this time is but a mere babe.” Lucina looked over and noticed that Morgan had his arms crossed over his chest, though Chrom was smiling just as wide as Lucina. “It was my duty.”

 

“Has the coronation occurred yet?” Robin asked again, though her laughter had subsided and now she seemed more intrigued. There were a lot of questions that she had, so many things that needed to be answered. Naga had told her of a few things, but mostly she slept.

 

“Not yet. But, the crown rightfully belongs to you now, Mother.” Lucina bowed her head, but her mother placed a gentle hand on her right shoulder.

 

“You would be good for Plegia. They’ve had many years of dark times and war. Lucina, I would be honored to watch you become queen.”

 

“But… Mother.” Lucina looked up and met Robin’s eyes, warm and sweet and familiar. She had missed her mother so much.

 

“You would make a much better queen than I.” Robin gave another small smile, and Lucina turned to Gerome.

 

“This is as much your decision as it is mine. Our lives are one.” Lucina said, and Gerome nodded without any expression to his face. Truth be told, he had enjoyed his time in Roseanne, and becoming a king would complicate his plans of leaving no footprints in the past—even if the past was all there was. Still, he agreed with the Ylissian queen. Lucina would make a fair and kind ruler.

 

“Plegia awaits.” He replied, and Lucina’s face immediately lit up. Morgan looked over at his sister and crossed his arms over his chest. His expression was quite amusing, face curled into a pout.

 

“What is it, Morgan?” Lucina asked when she noticed her brother’s expression. He shrugged, which knocked his Levin sword out of its holster and sent it to the ground. The boy didn’t even try to pick it up, he just sighed in contempt.

 

“You’re going to need a tactician.” He said, a grin appearing on his face. It took Lucina a moment, but she returned the expression when she realized what he was implying.

 

“And I would be honored to have you, Morgan.”

 


	29. Chapter 29

The coronation day came quicker than Lucina had anticipated. She was woken up at nearly the crack of dawn by several Plegian maids, all with the same dark hair and eyes. “Your majesty, the bath is ready for you.”

 

            Lucina blinked the sleep from her eyes as she sat up, her deep blue hair sticking up in all directions from her wild sleep patterns. Gerome was gone from the bed, probably out taking care of Minerva or even kicked out by the maids, leaving Lucina tangled up in the thin silk sheets. “Five more minutes?” She pleaded, but they remained firm in their stance.

 

            “It’ll get cold if you wait, Milady.” And Lucina couldn’t argue with that. She had enough cold baths while they were at war, she could use a warm one before a coronation.

 

            They led her into the bathroom, steam clouding her vision as she walked across the cold stone floor. Unlike Ylisse’s tubs, the room didn’t smell of roses. Instead the air was filled with a spicy scent, cinnamon and cloves and violets. Their oils and petals were swirling in the water, enticing Lucina into its depths. The rich aromas and the warm water soon overcame her, even when the ladies began to dote on and primp her.

 

            Normally she would refuse such care. After all, they didn’t have perfumed oils and handmaids and massages out in camp. She could do without them, but for the moment it was nice to be pampered. They scrubbed her skin nearly raw, pressing the fragranced water deep into her pores. By the time they were done, Lucina wondered if she would ever get the scent of violets off of her.

 

            A tall and thin maid helped Lucina stepped out of the bath though she looked quite frail and pale, much like Noire. The girl wrapped a towel around Lucina’s body, shielding her from the chill that came from exiting the bath. “Thank you.” She said, looking over to all of the girls. They didn’t seem interested, instead they just ushered the soon-to-be-queen back into the bedroom to finish readying her. 


	30. Chapter 30

Gerome had been forced out of bed earlier than Lucina, though he probably would have woken up soon after of his own accord. Minerva, after all, needed to be fed and cared for before she ended up carrying off a farmer’s hog or a small child. She hadn’t been having too much trouble adjusting to Plegia, as the sun and warmth kept her body temperature from dipping into dangerously low depths.

 

            The wyvern was excited to see her rider as he walked out into the field where she was sunbathing, taking the moment to romp over and nudge Gerome with her snout. “Morning, Minervykins.” He cooed. While many called Minerva a beast, to Gerome she was a big puppydog, a loyal friend. Gerome pat her on the head and kissed her snout, then got in position to mount her.

 

            “Let’s go.” Gerome held onto the thick leather straps secured around her midsection, and the wyvern rose into the air, her powerful wings flapping loudly against the morning air.

 

A few crows were cawing into the sunrise, and for a moment Gerome became incredibly nervous. Crows were often around the battlefields, picking off bits and pieces of the fallen or following Henry around. It was an unpleasant feeling, and Minerva could tell that there was something wrong with her rider. She landed in a clearing in the woods and began making noises, though Gerome was frowning.

 

“Minerva, don’t worry about me.” The boy snapped, one hand on the leather strap and the other resting on the back of his head. The wyvern kept making calls and clicks and hisses, but still Gerome remained.

 

“Minerva…” She began to rock to the side, just enough so that Gerome would slide off without any significant damage to his person. Once he was on the ground, she craned her neck over and licked his face. A trail of her saliva left a residue on his skin, but he just wiped it off with the back of a gloved hand.

 

“I’m all right. You need to hunt.” He gave her a less-than-impressed expression and mounted her again before they took back off into the air. There were a lot of things running through his mind. In just a few hours he would become the king of a country that he never wanted anything to do with.

 

He wasn’t even sure _how_ to be a king. His father had never regained the dukedom before his death, leaving Gerome with no standing in court. Not that Gerome minded. He wasn’t a particular fan of people, a sworn introvert some would say.

 

Others would just call him a distasteful misanthrope and call it a day. It took a lot to be able to see the softer side of Gerome, few managed to break through his armor in the figurative sense. In the literal sense, there had been a few times where a well-placed sword had pierced the metal.

 

Still with Lucina, he felt like he could handle it, even if he wasn’t exactly a shining beacon of hope for his soon-to-be people. Minerva had spotted a pack of deer in the trees, and soon they were on a fast descent with the wind blowing through his dusty turquoise hair. 


	31. Chapter 31

Lucina could barely recognize herself as she looked in the mirror. Her hair was tied up and coiffed in a style common in Plegia. She had seen it on many a Grimleal, and it felt strange and alien to be wearing it herself.

 

They had dressed her in a thin and airy black dress that hugged her figure and dipped low down her back. She felt nearly naked showing so much skin, as she was used to padding and armor and masquerading as a man. Still, she looked quite striking. There was a heavy necklace of gold and thick uncut amethysts hanging low against her bosom, their cool sharpness feeling like ice on her skin.

 

They allowed her to keep her circlet, though it was Ylissian in design. There was no way that she was going to give it up without a fight, and the maids didn’t even want to try. Normally Lucina stuck to a blue palette, as did most of House Ylisse, but now she stood there wearing Plegian blacks and purples and golds.

 

The last addition to her ensemble was a deep purple cloak, made of the same light material as the dress she was wearing. She half expected to see the six eyes of Grima embroidered somewhere on it, but it was plain. She was thankful for its presence, though, as it covered her bare back and the thick scars she bore from where Grima’s mark had once sat.

 

“Milady, it’s almost time.” The tall and thin maid called. Lucina barely recalled her name, and she felt bad about it. _It was something that began with an M…_ “You look beautiful.” Lucina racked her brain for a little longer, but couldn’t come up with a name. She sighed and gave a small smile to the girl, taking one last look in the mirror.

 

“Thank you…”

 

“Are you ready?” She asked, her expression still kind even though her body was tense. Her foot was tapping against the ground, revealing her impatience. Lucina wasn’t worried, the girl seemed harmless, and if there were ever a problem Severa had one of the best sword hands in the land (much to Owain’s chagrin.)

 

Though it was uncustomary, Lucina strapped on the belt that was attached to Falchion’s holster, then slid the blade inside. She felt naked without it—the last tangible thing that she had inherited from her father. “Now I am.”


	32. Chapter 32

 

            There wasn’t much pomp involved with Gerome’s prep work. After all, he was simply the spouse of the reigning queen. Still, he was dressed in elaborate Plegian garb full of his normal blacks, plus pops of purple and gold.

 

He felt absolutely clownish with the coloration, as he could have done without the additions. He stood there in front of the mirror, mask covering his face, trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest.

 

Gerome was about to become a king. Normally he was a lone wolf, only caring about those closest to him, but now he had the responsibility of an entire nation. While Lucina was firm and kind, she could still be naïve and full of dreams. She would make a fine queen, but still his ideas would have an effect on the Plegian lives.

 

“Milord.” A voice said from behind the door. It belonged to one of the maids that had sequestered him away in some unused bedroom of the castle so that Lucina would have time to get ready. It was ludicrous to him. They were already husband and wife and had seen each other plenty of times. But still he stood in the room with its cold stone walls, waiting to accept the position that he never thought he would have to take on.

 

“Milord?” The woman repeated, this time rapping on the wooden door. Gerome sighed and pulled it open, nearly sending the poor girl falling to the floor when her weight had shifted. “Her Majesty is ready for you.”

 

The titles were one thing that Gerome never thought that he could get used to. Though he had noble Valmese blood running through his veins he couldn’t help but find the practice barbaric. Just because he happened to marry a highborn didn’t mean that he was any better than anyone else.

 

He was still Gerome, still rode his mother’s wyvern and still found something to look forlorn about. Titles were niceties only used to separate man from man, and they had no bearing on his personal ties. He still loved Lucina, Queen or not.

 

“I am ready.” Gerome said, though he was looking out the window instead of at the maid. He took a second to tighten his mask’s hold on his face before exiting the room. There Lucina stood, dressed similarly in Plegian clothing with her hair up and her face frowning. He could tell that she was nervous, he could see it in her eyes.

 

“You’ll make a wonderful queen, Lucina.” He whispered into the shell of her ear as he took his spot next to her. Immediately her body seemed to relax a bit more, though she still carried tension in her posture. She looked over to him with a raised eyebrow, which he immediately caught.

 

“I wish I had my own mask for this occasion.” Lucina said while they marched down the hall, their steps slow and ceremonial and nothing like their usual pace. Then again, their usual pace was war and death and passion. She wasn’t sure if she could assimilate properly.

 

“Just stand tall, Luce.” Gerome looked straight ahead, his entire back straight and body tense. However, Lucina just huffed and looked out in front of her.

 

“That’s easy for you to say, you have its confidence and protection.” Still, Lucina allowed herself to fake a smile. After all the lessons that Inigo had given her on the importance of a smile on a ruler, she realized she should probably be putting them to work. “Tonight we will be king and queen.”

 

“That we will.” Gerome held out his arm, and Lucina hooked hers around it once they reached the top of the stairs. Both the princess and the wyvern rider took a deep breath, then began their descent.

 

An orchestra was playing a slow and careful tune, probably some traditional Plegian melody that Lucina vaguely recognized. It took her a moment, but she realized that her mother had sung her a song with the same tune when she was but a mere babe.

 

The beautiful rises and falls and crescendos lifted her spirits and gave her a newfound confidence. Lucina was poised and elegant as she walked down the staircase, arm in arm with Gerome. At the bottom she saw her family, mother and brother and father and even the baby Lucina, as well as her Aunt Lissa and her cousin Owain.

 

Severa was trailing behind the couple looking perturbed as usual, though after many years of knowing her Lucina had learned that that’s just what her face looked like. There was a sword in her holster, a new one by the looks of the pommel and guard. Owain could probably give a detailed history of the blade, along with a name and a signature move for it. The thought alone made Lucina crack a smile, though all the Plegian nobles around her had solemn expressions.

 

“Citizens of Plegia, and honored guests,” A priest dressed in all black began, “Introducing her majesty, Queen Lucina of Plegia.” Lucina was a little surprised that they didn’t mention Gerome, but then again she was the heir and he was the one being dragged along to the godsforsaken desert with her.

 

The couple walked to the end of a long footway covered in a rich purple carpet, and when they reached the end, Gerome broke away and joined Severa on the sidelines. It was all like they had rehearsed. Now that it was actually happening, with so many people standing around her, it seemed so strange.

 

Lucina took one last glance over her shoulder to look at her family, then knelt down on in front of the priest. He was a servant of Naga, a sharp contrast from the years of Grimleal influence on the country, though he was no Brady.

 

Gerome watched as several men and women dressed in similar colors and clothing lined up along the footpath, taking in every moment of what was going on. Yes, they had been there in rehearsal—they were meant to be there. However, that didn’t help to settle his nerves. With a quick side glance, he could tell that Severa was having similar feelings.

 

“Queen Lucina, are you willing to take the sacred vow?” The priest asked, and Lucina nodded in response.

 

“Yes. I am willing.” Her heart began to beat faster and her palms began to sweat. The way she was kneeling was causing Falchion to hit the ground at an awkward angle and cause minor discomfort for her, though she didn’t want to shift and embarrass herself.

 

“Do you swear to protect and govern the land and peoples of Plegia?”

 

“I solemnly swear.” The priest nodded, and both Severa and Gerome came over to help Lucina to a stand. She gave them a slight nod of thanks, even though their position was scripted, and she made her way towards the center of the platform that they were on.

 

In front of her stood an ornate staff, one with rough purple stones and swirling gold wires. It looked like something from a fantasy book, one of the ones that her mother would read to her when she was a child. Lucina reached out to grab it, finding it lighter than she had anticipated, and turned around to face the crowd in front of her.

 

“With this staff I, Queen Lucina of Plegia, swear to perform the duties that I have promised before you. In Naga’s name, I solemnly swear.” As the words left Lucina’s lips, the crystals on the staff began to glow, sending a shower of light upon her face. It was strangely warm, though the brightness didn’t hurt or sting her eyes.

 

The light slowly dimmed before flickering out, which signaled her to replace the staff in its proper place. As soon as its handle slid into the holster, the men and women standing along the footpath unsheathed their swords and held them high in the air, creating a tunnel of steel over the walkway.

 

“I present, Queen Lucina of Plegia!” The priest announced once again, this time as he smeared a thick and perfumed oil on Lucina’s forehead. Gerome stepped forward to meet her, and the action was repeated on him. “And her loyal husband, King Gerome.”

 

He was glad he was wearing his mask, as all of the eyes that were on him were overwhelming to say the least. Someone came behind him to place a crown on his head, though he thought that the gold and amethysts looked gaudy next to his mask. _King. I am a lone wolf._ Still, he had no time to protest, as he was already entwining his arm with Lucina’s to walk through the tunnel of swords.


	33. Chapter 33

A lavish banquet had been prepared to celebrate the coronation, filled with Plegian treats and Ylissian delicacies and even rare specialties brought in across the sea from Valm. Both Gerome and Lucina had celebrated, accompanied by family and friends. Even Virion and Cherche had showed, though Gerome had made every excuse in the book about their presence except for admitting that they had come to support him. 

It was late when Gerome and Lucina finally snuck back to their chambers, and they made haste slamming the door behind them. There were still the remnants of a party going on downstairs, probably involving Inigo getting drunk and hitting on Plegian maidens. 

Lucina found herself pinned between the hard and sturdy oak of the door and Gerome’s own body, his lips quickly finding hers. “Gerome.” Lucina mumbled between kisses, slightly sleepy but also enjoying the contact that he was providing. “They’ll wonder where we are.”

“Tell them that we’re attending to business.” Gerome replied, his voice low and husky as his head dipped to kiss the skin of her throat and exposed shoulders. “For the good of the Halidom.”

“Producing an heir.” Her breath hitched as the last word left her mouth, as Gerome had found a sensitive spot in the hollows of her collarbone. His groin was pressed firmly against hers, one hand on the swell of her hip and the other on her breast. She was using her position to cup his bum, grabbing handfuls and pulling him closer and closer. 

“Important state busin—“ Gerome was cut off by Lucina’s mouth as she kissed him fiercely, ripping the buttons on his shirt down without paying much attention to whether or not they were actually going through the holes or if they were just ending up on the floor. Soon his bare chest was exposed, the shirt falling to the ground with a soft whoosh. 

Gerome made quick work of pulling down the black silk of the front of Lucina’s dress, exposing her bosom while the fabric pooled down her shoulders and around her waist. He took a nipple into his mouth, not bothering to be particularly delicate, and began sucking and nipping on the sensitive flesh. A moan escaped Lucina’s lips, soft and almost unheard. 

She moved a hand from his arse to bunch up her skirt, allowing her to hook a leg around his waist. It didn’t take him long to pick up on her cues, and he aided her in wrapping the other around him. He was holding her tight against the door, rocking his hips into her with a grunt every time. Now his lips trailed from her nipples to her jaw, taking a few seconds to linger before he replaced them to her own. 

Lucina brought a hand up to tangle into his hair. She gripped her fingers deeply into the strands while crushing his lips harder to hers. The pressure and intensity of their kiss was dizzying, and every nip she made sent another shot of electricity up his spine. 

Her hand snaked between their bodies, nimble fingers working quickly at the fastenings of his trousers. In a swift motion she freed Gerome’s cock from its confines and stroked it lovingly, eliciting a groan from his lips. His head hung low and began kissing her décolletage, lips and tongue tracing lazily against her skin. Lucina worked her hand slowly over his shaft, her speed tantalizing and teasing him to the point where he was bucking his hips to get her to pick up the pace. 

Gerome lowered her until her feet hit the ground, the heels of her delicate shoes clacking against the cold stone floor. She looked confused for a moment, but Gerome was quickly dropping to his knees. “Milady,” He said with a smirk while he shoved up the front hem of her dress. Lucina bunched up the fabric with one hand and took Gerome’s hair with the other. 

Her hand lightly rested on the back of his head, gently guiding him closer to her center. He wasted no time sneaking closer, though he had to tease her just as much as she had teased him. Gerome’s hot breath swept against her skin, making her shudder from the pleasure that he was going to give her. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, teeth scraping lightly at her flesh every so often. 

The noises coming from low in Lucina’s throat were loud and plentiful, and he hadn’t even gone farther. His hands, strong and sure, parted her legs. A small groan slipped from her lips as she pressed her back harder against the door. Black, silky fabric attempted to swallow the top of his head, but Lucina bunched it up and tucked it out of the way. 

With that hand now free, she placed it on the solid oak and used it for leverage, pressing her center closer to Gerome’s face. He was still wearing his mask, though she wasn’t about to take it off. There was something sexy about not knowing what his next move would be, the mystery of the man in the mask. The material pressed against her vulva, strangely cool despite its constant contact with his face, while his mouth engulfed her clit.

“Gods!” Lucina hissed, her breath rushing out between her teeth as she bucked her hips farther up. The knuckles on her left hand were quickly glowing white from how hard the digits were pressing against the door. Her fingers were tangled in his hair straight to the roots, and she tugged slightly every time he scraped his teeth against the sensitive nub. It was his reward; it was only fair after all. 

He was growing harder with every tug, his erection pressing against his stomach and peering over the undone laces of his breeches. Pre-cum was dribbling out of the tip and smearing against him as he worked his mouth harder, flicking his tongue against her clit before focusing his attention elsewhere. His tongue worked up and down her slit, teasingly slow, before he plunged inside of her, causing her to cry out.

“Gerome… Please.” She was begging him now, and with a single fluid motion she lifted her right leg up and hooked it over his shoulder, allowing him more access to her sensitive folds. 

Her direction gave him new vigor, slipping his tongue out of her to flick over her clit. She moaned, interested in the new sensation, though she could feel him ghosting his fingers against the delicate skin of her inner thighs. His mouth remained on her nub, while a pair of fingers came up to tease at her entrance.

“Please.” Lucina cried out, attempting to buck her hips forward so that the digits would slip inside of her, but his free hand was pressed firm against her hipbone, pinning her in place against the door while he continued to taunt and tease her. 

She was slick and warm and wet, her cunt eager and waiting for the plunge of his fingers, though he was denying her the pleasure. He pressed them lightly against her slit, the tips sliding in without any resistance, but before Lucina could get used to it, he slid them back out.

A whimper escaped her lips in response, and if she hadn’t been pinned she would be riding his face at the peak of orgasm. When she least expected it, he trailed his lips up her vulva, leaving soft kisses along the wispy blue hairs. She was going to say something, but she was cut off by Gerome’s fingers plunging deep inside of her, thrusting quickly in and out.

“Gerome, oh Gods!” her voice was strangled in her throat, blocked by moans and whimpers and her newly freed hips rolling against the digits inside of her. They crooked up, hitting the one spot that Lucina liked, causing her to throw her head back against the hardwood. There was a loud thunk, though the pain receptors in her body had been clouded by pure pleasure. She was riding his fingers and arching her back, turning to putty in Gerome’s hands. 

“Please, dear Naga.” Her words were chased by a long moan, her thrusts against him getting slower and slower while the sound of her panting got louder and louder. “Baby…” That was it. He knew that he had ruined her—that he had fucked her good and hard and they had barely even gotten started. 

Lucina, though she was still shaking from the aftershocks of her orgasm, slid her leg off of Gerome’s shoulder and down his side, nudging his trousers down more with her foot. Once both of her feet were solidly on the ground, he shoved the garment down to the floor and kicked it away, exposing him full well in front of the new Queen. 

He was hard and leaking, and there was hunger in his eyes even though it was shrouded by the mask he wore. Gerome leaned in to kiss Lucina again, his tongue sliding past her teeth so that she could enjoy her own taste. The flavor was thick and heady, though it made her head buzz and her body quiver. 

Teeth clanked on teeth as he lifted her up again, back pressed against the door and legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving herself more support and leverage while he positioned his cock at the edge of her entrance. “Ready?” he asked, his voice a low hum in her ear and his breath hot and electric on her neck. 

“And waiting.” She kissed up his jaw as he slid into her, her breath hitching in her throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of her. Slowly, he began to rock his hips into her, grunting and panting with every thrust. 

Her kisses moved from his jaw to just below the mask, where a bead of sweat rolled from under its smooth material. She kissed the drop away and dipped her head to his neck, sucking dark and purple marks over the pulsing vein in his throat. 

The pads of his fingers pressed into the curve of her ass as he picked up his pace, fucking her harder and deeper while her warm and slick velvet walls clung to his cock. Gerome sucked in a hard breath as Lucina had dragged her fingernails down his spine, leaving bright red lines in their wake. 

His thrusts were getting harder, though more spaced apart. Her cunt was clenching around him, teasing and urging him to his release. “Lucina…” He rocked his hips a few more times before cumming with a groan, spilling his hot white seed inside of Lucina. 

He slumped over her shoulder, his heart racing and his breath slow and heavy. She couldn’t say that she was in any different of a position; she could hear her pulse rushing in her ears, even as he slid out of her and lowered her to the floor. 

The smooth bottoms of her shoes clicked against the stone again, though she was still leaning against the door as her legs didn’t feel like supporting her weight. One hand slid up his body to cup his face, causing Gerome’s eyes to flutter shut and his heart to race. She was slow and deliberate in her motions, but she slipped the mask off and let it clang to the ground, revealing his sweet and severe features.

“I love you.” Gerome hissed through gritted teeth, his breath still not back to normal after drinking all of Lucina in. The hem of her dress had fluttered back down to where it was supposed to be, though the front was still pulled down under her breasts. 

Her hair, once meticulously pulled up, was now sticking in several directions and Gerome’s wasn’t much tidier. They both sported several hickies all over their bodies, and it was a lovely sight to see. “I love you too.” Lucina cupped his face again and pressed a chaste and gentle kiss on his swollen and bruised lips, which looked darker as the candlelight burned low. 

“Come to bed, My Love.” She said, now tugging his hands and pulling him towards it. “We must rest, for tomorrow is a new day.”

“A new day in Plegia.” He groaned, though he followed her onto the sheets.

“But a new day just the same.” She gave him a nod, which he quickly returned. He knew what she had meant. It would be a new day, one with their families and one without Grima. The future was looking bright for once in their lives, and all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I left the paternal lineage of a good few of the children ambiguous for everyone to fill in their preferred ships. But if anyone was curious as to my list while writing this:
> 
> Noire: Gregor  
> Cynthia: Frederick  
> Owain: Lon'qu  
> Kjelle: Donnel  
> Inigo: Henry  
> Yarne: Stahl  
> Nah: Libra  
> Severa: Gaius


End file.
